


IxHzim 




mti 


iJiiiir 


.n?j3i5 


SitijnHiiii 




Class 

Book -U Zt i~ y\c< ' 
Copyright N“ 


COE^WCHT DEPOSIT. 








» f 

t 

< 


> « 





» 

> 


* . H 




✓ 




< 

« 


» 


t 


V 




■ 


■» 

( 


V 


»• 


I 


I 


» 





( 


» 


I 




« 


« 


' .f 


» 


» 





I 




t 








t 

»' 






* 

» 







I 

s 

# • 



* 



I 

4 



\ ► 


I 





- 


' / 



« 


I 






“ They went straight at the red-coats.” 

(see page 72) 








THE 


YOUNG CAPTAINS 

OR 

PRISONERS of the KING 


A Stirring Tale of 
Philadelphia 



PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID McKAY. PUBLISHER 

604-608 South Washington Square 



Copyright, 1913, by 

David McKay, Publisher 





Contents 


Chapter Page 

I. The Man From Valley Forge 5 

II. Held by the Enemy 16 

III. Friends Outside 27 

IV. Making Traitors to Order 38 

V. The Tongue of a Woman 49 

VI. A Domiciliary Visit 59 

VII. The Secret Chambers 70 

VIII. Master Hapgood and the Redcoats. . 80 

IX. Cross Purposes 91 

X. The Anger of Clinton 102 

XI. Shot Free 112 

XII. Master and Slave 122 

XIII. Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 133 

XIV. The Passport 143 

XV. The Pest and the Pit 154 

XVI. In which Priscilla has Callers 165 

XVII. Decoyed 176 

XVIII. As THE Fool Dies 187 

XIX. Howe and Clinton Have Words 198 

XX. To Valley Forge 207 

XXI. Conclusion 217 


3 




The Young Captains 


CHAPTER I 

THE MAN FROM VALLEY FORGE 

It was the loth of January, 1778, as Master Obed 
Poole, fuller, of Market Street, Philadelphia, had oc- 
casion to note in his diary. 

The day had been bitter cold. Great banks of 
snow were piled in the thoroughfares of the Quaker 
City, so that the British had to fight their way through 
them, and a strong wind that howled over the river 
swept the cheerless streets. 

This Master Poole had a little shop that was well 
known. 

It was not only his fulling shop, but his living place 
as well, for it had several rooms back and three over- 
head, and the fuller lived with his wife, a cripple, 
and a grand-daughter, whose father had been taken 
away by the British to the prison ships in the Jerseys. 

Master Poole himself was a little man with a hump 
on his back, with keen, bright eyes nearly black, while 
his hands were long and active. 

He made a good living at his trade, for he was 
5 


6 The Man From Valley Forge 


accounted the best fuller in the city, and his cloth 
never faded and only now and then wore out. 

On the day in question he was alone in his fullery 
when the door opened, and he looked up to see stand- 
ing before him a man whom he did not recognize. 

The stranger came forward and looked Master 
Poole squarely in the face. 

“Obed Poole?” he said. 

The fuller dropped the brush he had in his hand 
and looked again. 

^‘That^s my name,” said he. 

^‘I thought so. I could not make a mistake they 
told me. I .” 

“I beg pardon, but I do not know you,” broke in 
Master Poole. ‘‘You have the best of me in this 
regard.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“I say, I do not know you.” 

“ThaPs not strange, seeing that you see me for 
the first time.” 

The fuller was nonplussed. He looked at his visi- 
tor, who wore a heavy cloak that nearly concealed 
his face, and, moreover, appeared to keep his eyes 
away. 

“Master Poole, I am from Valley Forge.” 

The name sent the blood of the little fuller through 
every vein with a tingle. 


The Man From Valley Forge 7 


From Valley Forge! 

He knew what was transpiring there. He knew 
that Washington’s army was starving and freezing 
there, that the men were without shoes, that eleven 
thousand patriots were hugging scanty fires, while 
their enemies, the British, feasted and revelled in 
Philadelphia. 

From Valley Forge! 

And it was only twenty miles from a scene of plenty, 
of good warm fires and cosy beds, of great houses that 
defied the cold, and plenty of good wine and health. 

‘^So you are from Valley Forge,” said Master Poole, 
trying to be indifferent, though he was not. “What 
do I care?” 

“I thought I would tell you, that’s all,” was the 
reply. “I thought perhaps you had not heard of the 
place, you have such a warm place here.” 

Yes, the fullery was warm even in winter, and Mas- 
ter Poole did not think of the gale that roared outside. 

With a hurried glance at the door the fuller turned 
again to the stranger, to whom he said in lower tones: 

“Well, how goes it up there?” 

He was indifferent no longer. 

“As it has gone for weeks. We are still freezing.” 

“We?” 

“Yes. I am from there, you know.” 

“But, my dear sir, you look sleek.” 


8 


The Man From Valley Forge 


The man threw open his cloak, and for the first time 
showed Master Obed Poole his slim, almost fleshless 
figure, his cadaverous face, with its unnaturally gleam- 
ing eyes. 

“I haven’t seen meat for three days,” he said. 

‘‘Merciful heavens!” and the fuller turned toward 
the door leading to his living rooms, whereupon the 
other raised his hand: 

“Don’t order me anything. I am here for informa- 
tion.” 

“And not for food?” 

“Not for food. Master Poole. If I can carry out 
my plans I will soon feast. It has been a famine 
ever since I passed the camp lines at Valley Forge, 
therefore you will forgive me if I am just a bit tired 
of the fare.” 

“I should think you would be.” 

The slim stranger leaned slightly upon the counter. 

“I am come down to enlist in the king’s army,” he 
said, slowly. “ Where will I find the Queen’s Rangers, 
Colonel Simcoe?” 

Master Poole uttered an exclamation of astonish- 
ment. 

“You have left the other cause, have you?” he 
exclaimed. 

“I have come to become a soldier of King George. 
He feeds his men, I believe?” 


The Man From Valley Forge 9 


“Yes. He feeds them royally. They never have 
to complain over their rations. So you are a — a — 
deserter?’^ 

“I canT starve in a cause that looks hopeless.” 

“Are there many more like you up there?” 

“I think so.” 

“That’s bad — for Washington,” said Obed Poole, 
without showing his sympathies very much. His 
voice was hard and cold. 

“What would you have done, Master Poole?” 
asked the other. It was either a new enlistment or 
starvation.” 

“I— I .” 

“You have answered me already,” broke in the 
stranger. “You would do just what I am doing. 
You would enter the king’s service where men get 
something to eat.” 

“That’s what they do. I’ll have to admit that.” 

“Then, where will I find the Queen’s Rangers?” 

Master Poole thought a moment, and then gave the 
necessary directions, for he knew the location of the 
various commands stationed in the city. 

The stranger drew his tattered cloak closer about 
his figure and was quitting the room, when Obed called 
him back. 

He did not return, but stopped at the door and 
looked over his shoulder. 


10 The Man From Valley Forge 


“You have forgotten to tell me your name/’ said 
the fuller. “You know mine and fair exchange is not 
robbery, you know.” 

A grim smile came to the ashen face of the tall man. 

“For why do you want to know my name?” he 
asked. “I may be ashamed of it before spring. But, 
if you must know something, you can call me Willis 
Stark.” 

“Officer or private?” 

“Captain in Wayne’s Legion.” 

“That will do,” and Obed turned away. 

“You don’t think I should have come to the city, 
do you?” 

“I have nothing to say. You and the future for 
it. Captain Stark.” 

“But look here. Master Poole. I was told to come 
to you, that you were stoutly for the king, and that 
if I needed any assistance, which I do not, you would 
help me.” 

“Who told you that?” 

The deserter came up to the counter and leaned 
across it. 

“Who, did you say? Why a man named Byrd 
McShame. Ah! you’ve heard of him?” 

The look which Master Poole gave the speaker 
answered the question without more ado. 

“ When — did — you — see — him?” 


The Man From Valley Forge 11 


“Yesterday/’ 

“And he told you ” 

“That you were for the king. Yes. So you are, 
aren’t you?” 

“I — I — am but a fuller, an honest man. I mix 
not in the troubles of the times.” 

“I wish I never had,” growled Willis Stark. “But 
let me bid you adieu. I shall soon be a Ranger. 
They say this Colonel Simcoe is a fighter. That will 
be better than freezing at Valley Forge.” 

The speaker attempted to laugh at his own words, 
but the attempt did not succeed, and the next mo- 
ment he was gone. 

“A deserter !” cried Master Poole, when the door had 
closed upon his visitor. “ Captain Willis Stark of the 
Legion! He hadn’t courage to weather it out with 
the others. He couldn’t stand the poor beds, the 
cold fires and the ratty huts of his comrades, so he 
must seek a crimson uniform, good rations, and per- 
haps a command in the king’s army. Well, I can’t say 
that I blame him, in one sense of the word, but a 
deserter is a deserter, and that’s all there is to it.” 

“What’s that?” 

Master Poole turned quickly. 

The door had opened and another man had entered. 

“Hello, Benford!” cried the fuller. “I’ve been 
thinking about you all morning.” * 


12 The Man From Valley Forge 


“So? Who was the fellow that just left? Why, he 
looked like a cloaked skeleton. Blast my boots if 
he couldn’t cut a wind in two in the most approved 
manner.” 

“You may not believe it, Benford, but he’s just 
from Valley Forge.” 

“That man? Why, I thought he looked like one I 
know. What’s he here for?” 

“For service. He is going into the king’s 
army.” 

“A deserter, and, perhaps, a spy.” 

“He is one Captain Stark of Mad Anthony’s 
Legion.” 

“And you sent him — whither?” 

“To Colonel Simcoe.” 

“That’s where he wanted to go, eh? Yes. Well, 
the Colonel will take care of him. Oh, they’re falling 
to pieces up there in the valley of the Schuykill. I 
tell you. Master Poole, by spring Washington won’t 
have a corporal’s guard at his back. Why, the other 
day he had three thousand ragamuffins without shoes. 
Just think of it, and we are right at the fire in Phila- 
delphia.” 

“It’s pretty comfortable here, that’s a fact,” re- 
marked the little cloth maker. 

“Why, our men even are drinking wine, for they’ve 
got the gold to pay for it, and Howe and Chnton are 


The Man From Valley Forge 13 


having great times every night among the big bugs of 
the town. But did you hear the latest?’" 

‘‘No. I hear but little here, and that little only 
when you drop in, friend Benford.” 

“Why, the other day some of our men had a fight 
with some rebels up country. They were out from 
Valley Forge, impressing some supplies from the 
Dutch farmers. It was quite a little affair, I’m told. 
They met at a bridge over one of those innumerable 
creeks in the upper country. The foragers were on 
one side, our men on the other. Some of our 
fellows went down the creek and flanked the 
rebels, and bless me if they didn’t gobble in twenty 
of them.” 

“Prisoners of war?” 

“Yes. They brought them in, too. And, don’t 
you know, among them were two young fellows who 
have been in the rebel service ever since the opening 
of the war? They have fought in the Legion, I 
believe, and this Willis Stark could tell all about them. 
I’ll warrant.” 

“You say they are young soldiers?” 

“Yes, striplings.” 

“Did you hear their names?” 

“No, but I suppose one could have heard them if he 
had taken the pains to inquire. But just think of it, 
Master Obed, two young fellows in the forefront of 


14 The Man From Valley Forge 


their teens fighting against the king and freezing with 
the rebel, Washington, at Valley Forge T’ 

^‘They must be very zealous.” 

‘T should say so.” 

^‘And, pray, where are the young fellows now?” 

‘^Probably sent away to the prison ships, where they 
will learn what it is to fight against constituted author- 
ity. I never saw the like. Now, if we had a few more 
fellows like Captain Stark we would not have to fight 
these colonies very long.” 

‘^But there may not be many like him.” 

‘^Always doubting, I see,” laughed the other. 

Well, we shall see. I must be going. If I hear any- 
thing more about these young prisoners — they were 
both captains, I heard — I will report, Obed.” 

^^Do so, friend Benford. I shall be glad to learn 
further of them, and do you look a little after this man 
Stark ” 

‘‘Oh, I won’t forget him,” was the interruption, 
and again Master Poole was the only occupant of his 
little shop. 

As the door closed behind the last caller he struck 
the counter with his fist and let out a fierce exclama- 
tion. 

“A deserter !” he cried. “What sort of man can he 
be who will desert George Washington at this time? 
I know the terrors of Valley Forge are dreadful — that 


The Man From Valley Forge 15 


men are starving up there, d3dng of cold and hunger; 
but a man who will desert his comrades at a time like 
this is no man at all.’’ 

‘‘Obed!” called a voice from the stairs. 

The little fuller opened the stair door, and saw the 
round face of his crippled wife above him. 

^‘Here I am, Susan,” he said. 

“Who were you talking to?” 

“Our friend, Benford.” 

“But the voice before his?” 

“The man called himself Captain Stark of Wa5me’s 
Legion.” 

“Why is he in the city?” 

“He has deserted Washington at Valley Forge.” 

“May God have mercy on his cowardly soul !” came 
down the stairs. 


CHAPTER II 


HELD BY THE ENEMY 

True it was, as Roger Benford had informed 
Master Poole, that two yoimg captains belonging to 
Washington’s army had become prisoners of war. 

They had been taken in a spirited affair, in which 
the Americans had been worsted by a detachment 
of German chasseurs who had outflanked them. 

The Continentals had battled with their accustomed 
bravery, and on this occasion they had something to 
fight for, for they had just captured several beeves 
from a lot of Tories, and the cattle were badly needed 
in the camp at Valley Forge. 

A part of the American command was known as 
the Boys of Liberty, a set of young patriots who had 
already made for themselves a name on more than one 
battlefield. 

The company was imder the leadership of Benja- 
min Pierce, a young provincial, who had with him a 
friend, Frank Lowry, also a captain in the American 
army. 

The boys had behaved with great gallantry in the 

l6 


Held by the Enemy 


17 


set-to with the enemy, but they were overpowered by 
the chasseurs, and were ridden down by the fiery 
dragoons before a part of them who had been cut off 
from the others thought of surrendering. 

Thus it was that the two captains fell into the hands 
of the British. 

The beeves were also taken by the enemy, which 
w^as the greatest hardship, for the poor ragged men 
in the wretched cantonments at Valley Forge needed 
meat above all things. 

In the course of the day of capture the prisoners 
were brought into the city then held by the king^s 
army, and subjected to all sorts of jibes as they were 
marched through the streets. 

The prisoners held their heads high and looked 
defiance as they glanced about, and when they had 
been taken to an old warehouse near the river they 
were hustled inside, the doors locked, and guards 
placed round the building. 

‘‘It’s but little better than Valley Forge,” re- 
marked Captain Lowry, as he looked at the bare 
walls that surroimded them. “True, we are housed 
from the air, and will probably have some straw to 
sleep on, but, after all, our men up there would envy 
us our condition.” 

“That they would, Frank. And to think that we 
lost the cattle. After all the toil we had for them. 


18 


Held by the Enemy 


They were good fat beeves, and there was many a 
kettle of soup in those sleek steers.’’ 

^‘It’s a burning shame!” hissed Captain Lowry, as 
he paused in his strides about the cheerless room and 
stopped in front of his companion. ^‘This is the 
aftermath of Germantown, I suppose. Ah ! if we had 
only taken the Chew House we might be in Phila- 
delphia with the army at our back.” 

^^The milk is spilled, so we’ll not complain.” 

^‘1 trust I wasn’t complaining. I only could not 
forget the loss of those steers for the sake of our 
poor comrades up there among the cheerless hills of 
Pennsylvania. And here Howe and Clinton are rev- 
elling in the fat of the land and ” 

Just then heavy footsteps were heard at the door, 
the guard stepped aside, and the heav}^ portal opened. 

In the doorway stood a soldier clad in the showy 
uniform of a British colonel. 

He was tall and stately in appearance, and con- 
trasted severely, in the minds of the prisoners, with 
the men in the winter huts of the American army. 

He looked down upon the young captains who had 
been placed in a room by themselves, owing to their 
rank, and for a moment did not speak. 

Then he advanced a pace, and drew his figure to its 
true height as he ran his hand through his well- 
groomed beard. 


Held by the Enemy 


19 


“Are you the young officers lately brought in by 
Captain Collop of the Chasseurs?’’ he asked. 

N ‘‘We must be, but I did not learn the name of our 
captor,” answered Captain Benjamin. 

“You were caught as foragers?” 

“We were on a scout ” 

“I see. You had with you some cattle which 
you had impressed for the good of your cause?” 

“We were driving some beeves to camp when the 
dragoons came down upon us.” 

“Then you are Captains Lowry and Pierce?” 

“We are proud to answer to name and title.” 

The redcoat colonel winced a little at this and 
stroked his beard again. 

“Well, young sirs, you must know by this time that 
the cause you serve is on its last legs, that Washington 
and his army won’t hold together till spring. We have 
them in the net, and ere long the king will be called 
upon to deal with his rebellious subjects, all of whom 
will be his prisoners.” 

The young provincials looked at one another, but 
did not speak. 

“This being the case, and it is patent to all, it be- 
hooves you to come under our protection in time. We 
cannot only offer you amnesty, but something more 
than a mere shadow. We are aware of your bravery, 
for you are not altogether unknown to us, therefore I 


20 


Held by the Enemy 


am come to offer you something which I think you 
should not reject.’’ 

^‘What is that, sir?” 

“ Colonel Simcoe of the Queen’s Rangers is just now 
in need of some young blood. He has positions for 
those who will enhst in his famous regiment, and he 
promises advancement to those who take him at his 
offer.” 

‘‘He is very considerate.” 

“lam glad to hear you say so,” answered the colonel, 
misinterpreting Frank Lowry’s words. “You can 
rise to distinction as officers in the Rangers, for you 
have experience and youth on your side, and, more- 
over, are not afraid to fight. The Rangers just now 
are the crack corps of the army, and imder the gallant 
Simcoe will become more celebrated. This is a chance 
which you cannot afford to lose; it comes but once in 
a lifetime, and were I in your shoes, with youth in my 
blood, I would snap at it.” 

Frank Lowry looked at his companion and saw 
the flash that lit up his eyes. 

There was no mistaking the meaning of the officer’s 
words. 

“Who are you?” asked Frank. 

“I am Colonel Rutherford of Sir Henry Clin- 
ton’s staff. Giles Rutherford, of Sussex, at your 
service.” 


Held by the Enemy 


21 


“You offer us promotion if we join your army and 
fight for the king?” 

“That is it in a nutshell. We need not beat about 
the bush in a matter of this kind, young gentlemen.” 

“I thought we were rebels.” 

“All soldiers are gentlemen in the eyes of one who 
has served,” said the Britisher. 

“And we are to serve under Colonel Simcoe of the 
Queen’s Rangers?” 

“That is where we would like to place you, for there 
is the best chance for promotion. You have suffered 
long enough in a failing cause, and, as you already 
know, it is a pleasant transformation from Valley 
Forge to Philadelphia.” 

“We know that you are not suffering here for the 
necessities of fife.” 

“Indeed we are not,” hastened to answer the officer, 
“There has not been a case of suffering in the city this 
winter. We have but few men in the hospitals, and 
the most of those reached there through over indul- 
gence.” 

The young prisoners could readily believe this from 
the sleek appearance of the speaker. 

“More than this,” continued Colonel Rutherford 
before either of the captives could resume, “we 
have good warm fires in every part of the city. Com- 
missioned officers have their servants; they don’t 


22 


Held by the Enemy 


have to take care of anything, and when they lie down 
at night it is between blankets and at a fire. How is 
it up in Valley Forge?’’ 

“I will not answer you,” cried Captain Pierce. ^‘I 
will not detail the horrors of that camp. History will 
tell of them. Suffice it to say that there are not three 
blankets to a company ” 

‘‘My God! is it so bad as that?” 

“When men are placed on guard they have to bor- 
row the garments of their better situated comrades.” 

“Terrible!” 

“And when they are found dead — frozen on their 
posts — the others haven’t strength to dig their 
graves.” 

Colonel Rutherford turned away. 

“We have fallen into the hands of your army,” con- 
tinued Frank Lowry. “We are prisoners of war. 
For the first time in our lives we see the inside of 
the king’s prison. We tried to keep out of it to-day, 
but your chasseurs were too much for us.” 

“You fought well, I am told.” 

“So we did. We were fighting for food as well as 
for our lives. Colonel Rutherford, look here!” 

Frank advanced a step toward the British officer 
and opened his coat. 

“What, no shirt?” cried the officer, stepping back 
after one look. “Surely, it is not so bad as that?” 


Held by the Enemy 


23 


is the same with me, sir,’^ and Benjamin Pierce 
drew aside his own coat, exposing a naked breast. 

would not have believed it!’’ cried the Britisher. 
‘‘I had heard of such destitution, but I did not dream 
that it was true.” 

‘^Valley Forge is filled with such things,” resumed 
Captain Lowry. ‘‘The half has not been told, and 
perhaps never will be, but the eye of God sees it 
all.” 

“And despite all this the men up there still cling to 
Washington?” 

“They love him more and more every day.” 

“And they will let him lead them through this slough 
of despond to ignominous deaths?” 

“They are fighting for liberty, sir.” 

“They have rebelled against the authority of their 
king.” 

“They have taken up arms for their homes against 
oppression.” 

“ But they cannot win. They are a lot of misguided 
men ” 

“A truce to this. Colonel Rutherford,” cried Frank. 
“Let us come back to the object of your visit.” 

“We will come back to it. Don’t you think it would 
be pleasanter to serve the king than Washington?” 

“We would get shirts if we did, I presume?” grimly 
said Benjamin. 


24 


Held by the Enemy 


“The best in the quartermaster's storeroom. You 
shall have your pick.’’ 

“But what if we tell you that our souls are not 
measured by the yard of woolen?” 

“How’s that, young sir?” 

“We don’t swap principles for shirts.” 

“Ho!” cried the Britisher, coloring. “You 
mean, I presume, that you will not enlist in our 
army?” 

“Could I have spoken plainer, Colonel Ruther- 
ford?” asked Captain Pierce. 

“Then the interview must end. I have done my 
duty, and you must take the consequences. You are 
wedded to this doctrine of rebellion, and you must eat 
the husks of your folly.” 

“Which will afford us better meals than some we 
have taken at Valley Forge.” 

“Right you are! This rebellion, young gentlemen, 
is almost at an end. You half-starved fellows can’t 
make headway against the well-fed and well-disci- 
plined soldiers of the king.” 

“You must remember that some of our half-starved 
fellows cornered Burgoyne a few months ago.” 

“So they did, but it was on account of Burgoyne’s 
bad generalship.” 

“And the charges of Arnold and his madmen.” 

“Come! I am not here to argue the question of 


Held by the Enemy 


25 


battle. My mission is at an end. You will not accept 
the offer I have made?’’ 

^‘We are not traitors.” 

bad cause can have no traitors,” said the officer. 
“I must return and make my report.” 

“To whom, sir?” 

“To my superiors.” 

“To General Chnton?” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Then tell your General Clinton that Frank Lowry 
and Benjamin Pierce, soldiers of Wayne’s Legion in 
Washington’s army, would sooner rot in your prison 
hulks than draw a sword for the king of England.” 

“That’s putting it pretty strong, young fellow.” 

“But it is putting it justly,” was the reply. “We 
are for liberty in North America, and we have enlisted 
in the cause which is upheld by the sword of our 
leader.” 

“By my life, sirs, you deserve a better fate than the 
one that confronts you!” exclaimed Colonel Ruther- 
ford, suddenly advancing tow^ard the young captains 
and holding out his hands. “I shall never be your 
enemy save in the field. I am for the king and all he 
represents. I am his slave, and am ready to perish 
on the field of battle at his command. But, by my 
life, sirs, I honor you ! Forgive me, young fellows. 
I like you. But do not hope for many good things 


26 


Held by the Enemy 


here in Philadelphia. You are the king’s prisoners; 
you are rebels in the eyes of his generals, and before 
you are out of this British nest you will know that the 
king of England has a mailed hand!” 

Colonel Rutherford bowed his way to the door, the 
guard unlocked it, the stately redcoat turned, saluted 
the boys, and was gone. 


CHAPTER III 


FRIENDS OUTSIDE 

‘‘The future is not very encouraging/’ said Cap- 
tain Lowry when the British colonel had taken his 
departure. “We are surely the captives of the king, 
and if we escape the horrid prison ships we may deem 
ourselves lucky.” 

Benjamin shifted himself on the three-legged stool 
where he sat and smiled grimly. 

“This is not fighting for our liberties,” he replied. 
“In one sense it is better than the cheerless huts at 
Valley Forge; but still I would sooner be with the boys 
there. Colonel Rutherford is inclined to be a generous 
foe, for he has a heart in his bosom, and he was only 
carrying out the commands of his superiors when he 
came to us with the offer he made. Join Simcoe’s 
Rangers! Just think for a moment how we would 
look in red after charging the grenadiers on more than 
one field.” 

“It would be a transformation sure enough. No 
doubt we would be well treated by the enemy should 
we enlist under the king’s banner.” 


27 


28 


Friends Outside 


And be well watched in the bargain. They would 
hardly treat us as they treat their own men, for 
they would think of us as only half loyalists, and 
ail the time would be expecting to hear of our 
desertion.’’ 

Frank walked to the window and looked out upon 
the snow-laden street. 

Now and then he caught sight of the burly figure 
of the sentry as he paced back and forth keeping watch 
and ward over them. 

The fellow wore a heavy bearskin hat which had 
done some service during the war, and flakes of snow 
had settled upon it, giving it a motley appearance. 

He glanced up at the white face of the young cap- 
tive as he passed the window, and Frank thought he 
detected a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. 

He seemed to say, “How do you like it, young fel- 
low?” Frank did not reply to the glance, but let the 
guard pass on. 

True, as Benjamin had remarked, the chances for 
their escape were not promising. 

The British had been chary of exchanging prisoners, 
for they regarded the Americans as rebels, and, as 
they thought the war was near its end, they expected 
to hold their prisoners in durance for trial when all 
was over. 

The day passed wearily to the boys. 


Friends Outside 


29 


It was the first day of their captivity, and the 
cold night came, darkening the prospects around 
them. 

They saw the shadows grow long about their prison, 
and wondered what had become of their fellow cap- 
tives. 

‘‘I don’t think they will make us another proposi- 
tion,” said Frank. “When Colonel Rutherford makes 
his report that will end the matter so far as our present 
fortunes are concerned. We shall be taken away prob- 
ably to-morrow and get to inspect the horrors of the 
prison ships.” 

“Heaven save us from that fate!” fervently ejacu- 
lated Captain Pierce. “But there’s no telling what 
these British will do. If we could communicate 
with our friends in the city ” 

“That is out of the question, I’m thinking.” 

“ Certainly. If we could only get word to Mistress 
Beverley, who must be back in the city after her visit 
to Boston, we might have our imprisonment allevi- 
ated a little.” 

“I build no hopes on that prospect,” was the reply. 
“We must simply take matters as they come.” 

There was no fire in the room, and the boys con- 
cluded to make a night of it as best they could. 

They heard the guard tramping in front of the old 
warehouse, now and then growling out his displeasure 


30 


Friends Outside 


over the fact that he had to guard a lot of ^ ^Yankee 
rats” who should have been hanged when captured. 

“Make a note of that fellow’s appearance,” said 
Frank to Benjamin. “We may meet him somewhere 
in the future when we will have a chance of returning 
the compliment he is paying us.” 

“I will return them with threefold interest if ever 
I get an opportunity. He is a big fellow with broad 
shoulders, one of which, I notice, slopes more than the 
other, and that face is one I shall never forget.” 

“I’ve made a mental note of all his good points,” 
smiled Captain Lowry. 

“We’ll see him again. If we could only learn his 
name ” 

“Let us try. I’ll hail him when he comes 
back.” 

In a moment the figure of the big guard came back 
and Frank was ready. 

“I say, friend,” he said, as he tapped on the window, 
“couldn’t we have a Httle fire in here?” 

The guard stopped. 

“Fire for rebels?” he laughed. “You’ll want to 
fare like the king after awhile.” 

“Not quite that well, if you please. But it’s cold 
in here.” 

“Why didn’t you stay up at Valley Forge where 
they have good fires?” 


Friends Outside 


31 


“Oh/’ laughed Frank, “we thought we would come 
down and see the city awhile.” 

“You’ll see more of it than you care to, may be. 
As sure as my name’s Jack Morton, of the 41st Foot, 
I’d like to keep you in that hole till the end of the 
war.” 

“Thank you; that’s all. Master Morton.” 

Frank dropped back and exchanged looks with 
Benjamin. 

“It worked like a charm,” he said, with a smile. 
^^^Jack Morton, of the 41st Foot.’ We won’t forget 
that in a hurry.” 

“That we won’t, Frank. We’ll remember Master 
Jack, and hope for a time in which we may pay him 
back for his language.” 

Ten minutes later they heard some one talking with 
the guard. 

“I’d like to take a peep at them rebel captains,” 
said a voice. 

“But you can’t.” 

“What’s that? Won’t you let me have a look at 
’em? I haven’t seen a live rebel since the battle of 
Germantown.” 

“What care I if you haven’t? I know my orders, 
and if you can’t respect ’em ” 

“But just a peep.” 

“Who are you, anyhow?” 


32 


Friends Outside 


Isaac Paty, of the Rangers.” 

“Well, comrade Paty, you should be elsewhere just 
now instead of coming here to look at a couple of young 
rats in buff and blue whom we caught in a trap up 
country.” 

“I just want a peep.” 

The guard was obdurate, but after some talk the 
young prisoners heard him give in. 

‘^Well, go to the window and take a peep. You will 
find a hole there, and you may see a little, though 
there’s no light in the prison.” 

The boys heard some one scrambling along the out- 
side wall of their prison and knew that that person 
was trying to look inside. 

“I can’t see much of ’em,” cried a voice. 

“I told you you couldn’t. Do you think we’re 
going to the expense of keeping candles burning in 
there to let such fellows as you have a look at the 
rebels?” 

“I don’t expect anything of the kind. Oh, I see 
’em now! Two hkely young chaps, eh, comrade? 
When do you think they’ll send ’em to the hidks?” 

“The sooner the better. They’ll wax fat on the 
rations they have there, and when they come out, if 
ever they do, their own families won’t know them.” 

The other soldier laughed. 

“That’s all. I’ve seed ’em an’ that’s all I wanted.” 


Friends Outside 


33 


The boys in the old prison had caught a glimpse of 
a face at the window; that was all. 

They did not have a chance to see much of it, be- 
lieving that it was the face of an enemy, and they 
had seen enough of such faces within the last few 
hours. 

It was a long, cheerless night to the king^s prisoners. 
They could not keep warm, but they huddled close 
together and at last fell asleep. 

When the first flushes of another winter morning 
revealed the interior of their prison Frank uttered a 
cry and sprang across the room. 

^‘Look here !” he cried, holding up to his companion’s 
gaze a bit of crumpled paper. ^‘What’s this, think 
you?” 

^‘It wasn’t there last night,” was the reply, as 
Benjamin came forward. 

“ It’s a message from the outside. See 1 It is folded 
in a certain way.” 

The boys looked toward the window to see if they 
had been observed by the guard, and, not seeing that 
worthy, they opened the note and read as follows: 

^‘You are not friendless in Philadelphia. You 
have friends on the outside, so don’t despair. Liberty 
must always be purchased at a dear price. While 
there’s life there’s hope. A Friend.” 

^‘That is all,” said Benjamin, as he looked up into 


34 


Friends Outside 


Frank’s puzzled face. “It mystifies me. Surely 
the guard didn’t have a hand in this?” 

“They may have changed guards during the night.” 

“They usually do. But there is the strange man 
— the Queen’s Ranger — who was so anxious to get a 
peep at us.” 

“Those Rangers are rascally Tories who would hang 
us on sight,” observed Frank. “We can hope for 
nothing from that quarter. The fellow who came last 
night to have his curiosity satisfied is no better than 
the worst, and we can’t name him among our friends. 
But do you look again at the writing. We may recog- 
nize it.” 

“I do not. It seems to have been traced in a dis- 
guised hand. I never saw anything like it.” 

The boys gave the problem up. It was too deep 
for them, but, concealing the message on his person, 
Frank turned to the window. 

He looked out upon a cheerless prospect. The 
street was white and snow hung heavily on the boughs 
of the elms. 

A cold wind came into the prison and shivered the 
very marrow in their bones. 

“Come here, Benjamin,” he said. 

Captain Pierce hastened to the window and took a 
position at Frank’s side. 

“Look at that person across the street — ^in the 


Friends Outside 


35 


upper window,’’ said Frank. Don’t you think it 
pretty early to be reading at a window?” 

Benjamin noticed the person designated by his 
companion and watched him narrowly. 

It was the face of a man they saw, and he appeared 
to be engrossed with a newspapaer. 

‘^There’s a hole in that paper I” cried Captain 
Lowry. ^^He’s watching the warehouse through it.” 

“It looks that way, for it appears to me that I can 
see his eyes. Watch him a little longer.” 

The boys did so, and at last saw man and paper 
vanish. 

As the vanishing movement was executed the man 
gave a flourish with the paper and nodded his head, as 
if he had seen the two faces at the prison window. 

Presently something, not a face, came in sight in the 
window across the street, and the boys saw a large 
“F” pass from side to side of the sash. 

They held their breaths. 

In another moment an “R” crossed the space, then 
an “I” and other letters until they had spelled out 
“friends” in this unique manner. 

“That must have been intended for us,” remarked 
Captain Benjamin. “We have friends on the outside, 
but they may not be able to do us any good. We must 
watch that window for more dispatches from our un- 
known friend and ” 


36 


Friends Outside 


They heard the guard^s challenge and then the 
door was unlocked. 

A young officer came in. 

“Awake, young sirs,’’ he said, with some astonish- 
ment. “I hope you didn’t suffer much through the 
night.” 

Frank waved his hand around the room. 

“Oh, I see! No fire. Well, you will fare better 
than this after this morning.” 

“How so, sir?” 

“You are to be removed, sir. If you will give your 
parole of honor ” 

“Then we are not to be asked to take service under 
the king’s banners?” 

“No, sir; but, of course, should you elect to do so, 
the opportunity will be given you. You will be re- 
moved from this place and given better quarters.” 

“To whom do we owe this change?” 

“I cannot say. It is orders. Your parole may not 
be much better than this prison, for it will be exact- 
ing, and you will be compelled to obey it under 
penalty.” 

“Anything is better than this cheerless hell!” 
flashed Frank. 

Just then he happened to glance from the window 
across the street, and saw, where he had lately spelled 
out the word “friends,” the face of some one. He 


Friends Outside 


37 


could hardly keep back a cry, and the moment the 
young Britisher had departed he clutched Benjamin’s 
arm and exclaimed: 

‘^Look! Benjamin, look! Tom Hapgood is across 
the street ” 

Captain Pierce looked, but there was nothing at the 
window now. 


CHAPTER IV 


MAKING TRAITORS TO ORDER 

The parole mentioned by the British ojQicer did not 
materialize that day. 

And this is why it did not : 

One, Joe Galloway, who was the foremost Tory in 
the city, had a little business with General Clinton, 
and upon concluding it he turned suddenly upon that 
famous soldier and said: 

“I understand, general, that you have lately cap- 
tured two young soldiers of Wayne’s Legion.” 

“That is true. They were brought in yesterday 
under guard. Do you happen to know them. Master 
Galloway?” 

“I happen to know that they are most dangerous 
captives. They are acquainted with the head rebels 
of Philadelphia, and should they be paroled, which 
I trust they will not, they would give us no end of 
trouble.” 

General Clinton thought a moment. He remem- 
bered that he had sent first Colonel Rutherford, and 
then a young officer, to the warehouse where the two 
38 


Making Traitors to Order 


39 


young captains were confined. Colonel Rutherford 
he knew had failed in his mission, for the prisoners 
had refused to enlist in Simcoe’s regiment, and the 
second officer, who had mentioned that they would be 
paroled upon their honor, had reported that they 
seemed willing to accept the offer. 

General Clinton looked at his visitor, a man to be 
respected despite his low meanness, and answered: 

“I have been considering the matter of paroling 
the young captives. I have, in fact, sent an officer to 
them saying so for me; but if you can advance an 
argument why they should not be thus favored I will 
take it under consideration.” 

‘Ts not what I have said enough? The city, as you 
know, is still overrun with rebels who are plotting 
secretly and all the time against the king, and these 
young scamps will no sooner be out than they will be 
helping them. What does a rebel care for a parole? 
He is at all times a rebel and has no honor at all.” 

These young fellows are said to be fighters of 
spirit.” 

“I hear that, too. They have led some of the hard- 
est charges in the whole war, and to let them out in 
Philadelphia will be to uncage two young lions.” 

There might be something in your arguments, 
friend Galloway,” responded Clinton. 

“We can’t afford to let them out. They will give 


40 


Making Traitors to Order 


us trouble from the start, and, by the way, there is 
said to be just now forming in the city a league calling 
itself the Liberty Tie. Just what it has done as yet 
I do not know, but its mission is to convey information 
to the rebels and to help them upon all occasions.’* 

“I had not heard of this new trouble.” 

‘‘I heard of it but yesterday. It is composed of 
both sexes, and it is rendered the more dangerous 
because it has women in its ranks. They are great 
secret getters, you know. For some of these rebel 
girls are deucedly pretty, and will capture some of our 
young and foolish officers with their manners, and the 
first thing we know they will tell all they know.” 

“This must be taken in time,” said Clinton. “The 
secret league must be dealt with before it can do us 
any injury.” 

“ Certainly. If we let these young' rebel officers out 
on parole they will naturally gravitate to this secret 
cabal and we shall have no end of trouble, as I have 
said.” 

The British general reflected a moment. 

“Master Galloway, could I not put this matter into 
your hands?” he suddenly asked. “I know of no 
person better able to ferret out this conspiracy, for 
it is nothing less. You know all the ins and outs of 
Philadelphia, you have access to a certain part of this 
rebel society and can come and go when you please. 


Making Traitors to Order 


41 


Of course, your sentiments are known, but you can 
pull certain strings and produce certain results.” 

could do all this, but I fear you impose too much 
confidence in me, general,” replied Joe Galloway, who 
all the time wanted the commission. 

“I cannot take ^no’ for an answer. I look to you. 
Master Galloway, in this important matter. You 
shall be well rewarded for your trouble, and, as for 
funds, you can draw on me at any time.” 

The Tory bowed. 

‘T will undertake the commission,” said he. “I 
will do all in my power to break up this infamous 
league of the Liberty Tie. In the meantime let me 
advise against paroling these young rebels now in our 
hands.” 

‘T will hold the matter back. They can be taken 
to other quarters so far as that is concerned, but, as 
for paroling them, I will consider the matter off.” 

‘‘ Good ! This disarms the Liberty Tie in advance. 
We shall crush it in its incipiency. This is the way to 
deal with such things, I think. The rebels in Phila- 
delphia need a lesson they will not soon forget, and I 
will do all in my power to break their power here.” 

‘Txert yourself to the utmost. It is not pleasant 
to command in a city where half the people you meet, 
even in society, are against you, though they do not 
say so. A secret enemy is the most dangerous. 


42 Making Traitors to Order 


‘‘Always. I shall report as soon as I have anything 
to report/^ and with this Joe Galloway bowed him- 
self out and General Clinton was alone. 

Master Galloway, as we have said, belonged to the 
most radical Tory faction in the city. 

He was a man of forty-five, strong of limb and active. 
He was thoroughly famihar with every part of Phila- 
delphia, knew it by night as well as by day, and there 
was not a cranny that he had not investigated. 

He was unmarried, but it was said that he was lay- 
ing siege to the heart of Mary Logan, the yoimg grand- 
daughter of Obed Poole, the fuller. 

Be this as it may. Master Galloway kept his own 
counsels, and it was next to impossible to have him 
open his mouth when he did not want to betray him- 
self. 

Chuckling to himself over the success of his visit to 
General Clinton, the head Tory made his way half 
across the city and opened the front door of a quaint 
old house which stood a little off the street and in the 
midst of a grove of trees. 

He kicked the snow from his shoes as he entered the 
cold hallway and made his way to a room on the second 
floor. 

There he found a fire on the hearth, and a certain 
warmth, which was very comfortable, was imparted 
to the room. 


Making Traitors to Order 


43 


Master Galloway took off the cloak that had pro- 
tected his shoulders and threw himself into a large 
armchair near the hearth. 

After rubbing his hands briskly for some time, he 
struck the nearby table with his knife and the door 
opened. 

A young man came in and stood awaiting orders. 

‘‘Harry,” said Master Galloway, without looking 
round, “bring me a bottle of wine and a pipe.” 

The youth turned to depart. 

“Ah! by the way, Harry, has Albert been in?” 

“Albert is abed.” 

“ Call him up as you go by his room, and say that 
I want to see him on important business.” 

The young man departed and Master Galloway 
fell to watching the fire again. 

Presently Harry came back with the order filled, 
placed the articles on the table, and said: 

“Master Albert will come as soon as he can dress.” 

The Tory poured out some wine and drained two 
glasses in swift succession, without pausing. 

Then he lighted his pipe, and was blowing the first 
white wreaths ceilingward when he heard footsteps 
behind him. 

“Is that you, Albert?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

The person who came forward was a youth of seven- 


44 


Making Traitors to Order 


teen, tall and slender, with a wealth of dark hair and 
eyes to match. 

He was quite handsome, and for half a minute Joe 
Galloway looked up into the face above the arms of 
his chair. 

“Albert, we have work before us,’^ said Joe. “We 
have a commission from Sir Henry Clinton.” 

“Ah! from Sir Henry? And pray what is it?” 

“We are to break up this new conspiracy. We are 
to ferret out the secret machinations of the Liberty 
Tie.” 

The youth seemed to start a little. 

“What is it?” asked Joe. “I thought I saw you 
start just now?” 

“Did I? Well, you know I’m all right.” 

“Of course I do. You’re loyal to the king, Albert. 
I could trust you with my life, boy.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Now, I want to give you your work. Stand over 
there where I can see you. We will win fame and gold 
if we can break up this order of the Liberty Tie. It 
is plotting against the king right here under the noses 
of his generals. It has already spread some distance 
throughout the city, and is ready to send information 
up to Valley Forge, where the rebel rabble just now is 
freezing in its bones, thank fortune.” 

There was no reply and the Tory proceeded: 


Making Traitors to Order 


45 


‘‘Albert, you have the entree into some of the best 
rebel society in the city. You know where they con- 
gregate, and I believe you are not suspected of being 
for the king.” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You are not; I know that. Now, I heard you say 
the other night that Mistress Beverley, who came back 
to the city after the battle of Germantown, was very 
pretty, and, by George ! she is, and I believe, too, she 
has presented you with a token of her esteem.” 

“Only a handkerchief which she hemmed with her 
own fair hands,” said the youth. 

“Well, that’s enough!” cried Joe Galloway. 
“You’ve got a hold on that young lady and no 
mistake. She thinks something of you and there’s 
where we must enter our wedge. Couldn’t you 
manage to join the Liberty Tie?” 

A slight exclamation of aversion fell from the youth’s 
lips. 

“What! don’t you want to serve your king?” 
cried the Tory, turning in his seat, for the young man 
had stepped slightly aside. 

“I love the king, but ” 

“You don’t want to play double with this inamorata 
of yours, eh?” 

“I— I ” 

“Come, sir!” almost roared Joe Galloway. “You 


46 


Making Traitors to Order 


must do as I say. I have claims upon you, sir, and 
you know it. You must do what I want done.” 

A flash of fire came up in the black eyes, but their 
owner did not speak. 

“You’ll do my bidding, won’t you?” 

“If you say so.” 

“Well, I say so. You hear that?” 

A shght inclination of the youth’s head was all the 
answer Master Galloway got. 

“Now, sir, I want you to call upon Mistress Beverley 
and to make all sorts of love to her. You are to dis- 
cover the meeting place of the Liberty Tie, you are to 
talk treason with a glib tongue, and finally to join the 
league.” 

The young man’s face seemed to grow color- 
less. 

“Will you do this, Albert?” asked Joe, dropping 
his voice a httle, while he looked searchingly at the 
person whom he addressed. 

“If you say so.” 

“Need I repeat that I have said so? There must 
be no compunctions of conscience in this matter. 
You must throw conscience to the wind. This is for 
the cause of the king. We’ve got to crush out treason 
in Philadelphia. I have blocked a game of parole for 
two young rebel captains who came in as prisoners of 
war yesterday. They will freeze here just as well as 


Making Traitors to Order 


47 


anywhere. And, by Jupiter, if I can see their guards 
I will see that we duplicate Valley Forge right here in 
this city!’’ 

Albert turned to go. 

“Do this at once,” said Joe Galloway. “We must 
not let grass grow under our feet in this matter. I 
want to hear within the next forty-eight hours that 
you belong to the Liberty Tie. Now you can go; but 
remember the penalty attached to a disobedience of 
my commands!” 

The door opened for Albert and he passed out. 

Traversing a dimly lighted hallway he reached 
another door, and found himself in a little room where 
he paused. 

“Must I do this?” he cried, in the agony of a human 
soul. “Must I pose before her as a rebel, while I 
seek to betray her to the king? Must I sink, all the 
nobler impulses of my nature to play this despicable 
game? What am I but a coward? What will I ever 
be but a fool, afraid of the man in yonder — the 
guiltiest wretch that ever drew the breath of life.” 
He turned and shook his fist at the closed door. 
“What am I to do? Oh, yes, I am to sink my soul 
into the depths of perdition to serve you, Joe Galloway. 
I am to play traitor and ingrate. And all because 
you say I must. Oh, I wish some rebel command 
would catch you and swing you from the limb of some 


48 


Making Traitors to Order 


oak. I wish I had the manhood to turn on you. I — 
I 

He seemed to hate himself in the rage of his soul, 
and the next moment he threw himself upon the bed 
and buried his face in his hands. 

“And yet I must do it ! I must go and play double 
Hke the villian I am. Oh, I wish the Liberty Tie would 
suspect and drive a dagger to my heart before I can 
betray it. My heart is not in this piece of villany. 
My God, no! But I must obey. I wish you had 
never seen the light of day, Joe Galloway; but jthere is 
retribution in the future, and vengeance some day 
perhaps shall be mine 


CHAPTER V 


THE TONGUE OF A WOMAN 

There is one man whom we must not lose sight 
of in the course of our story, and that is Captain Willis 
Stark, the soldier from Valley Forge. 

After quitting the fullery of Obed Poole he found 
his way to the command of Colonel Simcoe, the head 
officer of the Queen’s Rangers, an organization of 
loyalists who had taken active service under the king. 

This man Simcoe was notorious, as well he might be, 
for he commanded a lot of merciless fellows who had 
turned against their neighbors, against whom they 
waged an inhuman war. 

They were largely Tories from Long Island; but, 
since the occupation of Philadelphia, others had come 
to swell their ranks, and cruelty and rapine seemed to 
be their double battle-cry. 

On the other hand, the Whigs of the Revolution 
hated them with all the intensity of their nature. 

It was give and take between Whigs and Tories, 
and the war was waged so fiercely between these two 
factions that it almost amounted to extermination. 


49 


50 


The Tongue of a Woman 


Simcoe found his level when he accepted command 
of the Queen’s Rangers. 

He was a good soldier and already had performed 
distinguished services for the crown; but, deep in his 
nature, was centered a cruelty worthy of the man. 

It was to this man that Captain Stark, the ac- 
knowledged deserter, made his way. 

Simcoe was ever on the alert for new recruits, and 
already he had enrolled in his ranks deserters from 
Valley Forge; for not only were Tories welcomed 
there, but whenever a man grew tired of the war as 
a patriot soldier he knew where he could get better 
food and clothing in the British camp. 

Captain Stark was ushered into the presence of 
the commander of the Rangers, who received him 
cordially and began with his usual questions: 

“So you’ve grown tired of fighting against the 
crown?” 

“Tired of it.” 

“That’s a frank confession. How are they faring 
up in the valley of the Schuylkill?” 

“Poorly enough.” 

“The dastards!” cried Simcoe, striking the table 
with his fist. “I don’t wonder that a man of your 
sort turns from such a rabble. How many men has 
Washington up there?” 

“About eighteen thousand.” 


The Tongue of a Woman 


51 


‘‘So many? I thought he had but ten thousand. 
So I have been informed. 

“Your informant has underestimated Washington’s 
forces,” quietly returned Stark. 

“How long will they hold out?” 

“That’s pretty hard to tell.” 

“Will they hold together till spring?” 

“I can’t say.” 

“And their rations?” 

“They are bad enough.” 

Simcoe smiled. 

“So you want to enlist in the Queen’s Rangers?” 

“That’s why I’m here.” 

“We are always on the lookout for brave men. 
We are willing to give the misguided people of America 
a chance to redeem themselves. Just now, however, 
we have no fighting to do, but as soon as spring opens 
we expect to move, and then will come the bagging of 
the rebel Washington.” 

“In the spring, you say?” 

“Yes. But we may find a little scouting for you, 
Captain.” 

“Which will suit me very well, for I don’t like idle- 
ness.” 

“I like that,” cried Colonel Simcoe. “Captain 
Symmes will swear you into the ranks to-morrow. In 
the meantime you have the freedom of the dty.” 


52 


The Tongue of a Woman 


thank you, sir.’’ 

say, captain, I wish you would leave with me a 
rough drawing of the camp at Valley Forge. We may 
want to make use of it one of these days.’’ 

Stark nodded. 

“Bring it here to-morrow. Don’t forget it.” 

“I shall not.” 

Half an hour later this same Captain Stark might 
have been seen back in Obed Poole’s shop. 

The little fuller recognized him at once. 

“Well, did you find Colonel Simcoe?” 

“Yes.” 

“And enlisted?” 

“I suppose I am accounted a soldier of his majesty 
George III. I rather like the colonel.” 

“A man of some good parts,” guardedly answered 
Obed. “I don’t know much about him personally; 
but he is high in favor with the king’s officers and is an 
especial friend of Clinton’s.” 

Just then footsteps were heard on the stairs and the 
door opened. 

The face of Mistress Poole appeared. 

She hobbled down the steps with difficulty, for she 
had been a cripple for years, and the moment she 
spied the deserter her face reddened and she came on 
imtil she faced him. 

“So you’ve left Valley Forge?” she said, looking 


The Tongue of a Woman 


53 


Stark in the eye. 'WouVe turned your back upon 
Washington and liberty?’’ 

‘‘I’ve left the army up there, madam.” 

“So I’ve heard. Is Hberty so bad that you must 
leave her ranks for service imder the banner of 
tyranny?” 

Obed shot his wife a reproving glance, but she did 
not heed it. # 

“Where are you from, sir?” 

“From Pennsylvania.” 

“Is your mother living?” 

“She is dead, madam.” 

“Thank God for that !” cried Mistress Poole. “ She 
did not live to see her son disgrace her.” 

Captain Stark reddened under this stinging rebuke 
and for a moment looked away. 

“You may have been true once, but now you have 
undone all your virtuous acts,” continued the woman. 
“You have sunk yourself in the sHme of treason and 
would serve the master against whom you have fought. 
Like a whipped dog you lick the hand that beats you 
and grovel where your betters have died fighting for 
the best cause under the sun. Obed, why don’t 
you turn this hound out of your shop?” 

“Sh!” cried Obed. “You will have the king’s 
officers down upon us in a minute.” 

“What care I for the king’s officers? They are but 


54 


The Tongue of a Woman 


a lot of time-servers dressed in red, which represents 
the patriot blood they have spilled in America.’^ 

^‘We all have opinions of our own,” remarked the 
fuller, as he turned to the soldier. My wife will never 
have a good opinion of the British. She ” 

^^Has a mind of her own,” broke in Susan Poole. 
“I am ashamed of you. Captain Stark, for I hear that 
is your name. No relative of the Stark who broke 
the British ranks at Bennington?” 

“No relative of his.” 

“For which the old general must be sincerely thank- 
ful. John Stark of Bennington is a patriot, and you, 
you, sir,” she came close to the deserter and shook her 
sallow hand in his face, “you, sir, you are the veriest 
vermin that ever crawled the sod of freedom.” 

“You are hard on me, madam.” 

“Hard on you? Not at all, sir. I have but spoken 
the truth, and deep down in your soul, if you have 
one, you must acknowledge that what I have said is 
true.” 

“ Granting it, madam, which I am not disposed to 
do, I must maintain that I have a right to fly from 
starvation to the land of plenty.” 

“From famine to feast? That is it, I know. But 
the feast is poisoned, while the few crusts the men of 
Valley Forge get are sweetened by the blessing of 
coming freedom.” 


The Tongue of a Woman 


55 


We’ll not argue the question,” said Captain Stark. 
“The die has been cast.” 

“And the traitor has drawn his lot.” 

“I see a woman will have the last word, so I will 
not dispute with you further, madam.” 

“ Just as you wish, sir. But let me tell you. Captain 
Stark, that the day is coming when the little army up 
at Valley Forge will march to victory, and the army 
of the king will finally lay down its arms at the feet 
of Washington.” 

“I wish I could think so.” 

“You have but to go back there and wait for that 
glorious time. It is coming, and had you not deserted 
the cause you would soon stand in the light of the sun 
and liberty.” 

With this. Mistress Poole turned with a last look of 
derision at Captain Stark and hobbled to the stairs. 

With her hand on the latch she turned and looked in 
his direction, but seemingly past him. 

“The God of battles is with Washington, and before 
He will see the cause of liberty fail in this country he 
will let the sun stand still in the valleys of the Schuyl- 
kill as it stood for Joshua when he destroyed the ene- 
mies of light. George Washington is the Joshua of 
America and his cause cannot fail.” 

The door opened and shut, and the two men heard 
the little woman hobbling up the stairs. 


56 


The Tongue of a Woman 


“You must not take to heart what she says/’ 
said Obed, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. 
“She is a woman of severe opinions and I’ve got to 
submit. There’s no getting the best of a woman in 
an argument when she is unconvincible.” 

“That’s right, friend Poole,” smiled Captain Stark. 
“We must let them have their way, for they have it 
anyhow, and the best way out of the unpleasant matter 
is to let them run down like a clock.” 

“By Jupiter, that is it, captain!” cried Obed. 
“But what rank did Colonel Simcoe give you?” 

“None, as yet; though I expect he won’t want me to 
serve as a private.” 

“Of course not. You’ve seen service, and, being a 
veteran, you should be rewarded.” 

Captain Stark looked again at Obed, and the next 
moment took his hand and leaned forward till his 
lips almost touched his ear. 

The deserter’s lips moved in words that were not 
heard beyond the ear that listened. 

Obed Poole started. 

He looked at Captain Stark and turned two colors 
at once. 

“You don’t tell me? But why didn’t you let that 
remain your secret?” he exclaimed. 

‘T did not choose to,” was the reply. 

“It’s a terrible move.” 


The Tongue of a Woman 


57 


know it,” calmly said the deserter. ^^As I told 
your wife, the die is cast. Now I want to ask you 
another question. Where will I find one Joseph 
Galloway?” 

“What, Joe Galloway, the king^s man, and the 
secret agent of the British in Philadelphia?” 

“The same.” 

“He lives on Market Street, in a house that sets 
back from the pavement in the midst of a lot of 
trees. But that man is Sir Henry’s watchdog. He 
hunts down patriots in the city and is merciless.” 

“Never mind that. I want to know where this 
man lives.” 

“It will be easy to find his house. Any one on 
Market Street can post you.” 

“Thank you. He is cool, then?” 

“One of the coolest. And, what is more, he can do 
anything he pleases and have his acts sanctioned by 
the generals.” 

“Is he married?” 

“Not yet. They say that he is after my little 
grand-daughter Mary, a child as compared to him. 
He is old enough to be her grandfather almost ” 

“And the child?” 

“She seems to have been drawn to him by the 
powers of fascination, I suppose. We don’t like it at all, 
but what can we do against a man like Joe Galloway?” 


58 


The Tongue of a Woman 


Stark struck the counter with his fist. 

^‘It’s an outrage, that’s what it is!” he cried. 
‘^Why should this lamb fall into the hands of a 
wolf?” 

‘^It’s terrible, I know, but for me to resist his wooing 
is to lose my little all — my shop and my comfort.” 

“But I must see Master Galloway.” 

“If he should suspect ” 

“But he need not suspect. I come to Philadelphia 
with a twofold purpose. I have cast the die.” 

“And if you lose you lose your life.” 

“Every cost was counted amid the snows of Valley 
Forge. I thought it out in a fireless hut, with the 
winds of winter howling a gale around me and with 
my comrades freezing to death.” 

Obed drew off and looked for a moment searchingly 
into the captain’s face. 

“If you could save the child ” 

Then he stopped and turned away. His eyes were 
filled with tears. 

“I must see this man. Tory though he is, he may 
have a bit of humanity left.” 

“Not a shadow of it, sir!” cried Obed. “Ask any 
man, friend or foe, in Philadelphia, and he will tell 
you that Joe Galloway is a human monster without 
a semblance of pity. He’s sent the best of earth to 
the gallows and always escapes himself.” 


CHAPTER VI 


A DOMICILIARY VISIT 

Two nights later there was a good deal of excite- 
ment in the British army quartered in the Quaker 
City. 

It was not occasioned by any movement on the 
part of the Americans, nor was it the result of any fear 
of such an event. The patriots cantoned at Valley 
Forge were not in shape to take the offensive. They 
were huddling like a lot of animals about the poor 
excuses for fires in their camp, freezing on guard and 
off, and nearly starved. 

The rumor that the two young captains of Mad 
Anthony’s Legion were no longer in the warehouse, 
whither they had been taken after their arrival in the 
city, that they had effected their escape, grew into a 
fact, to the utter astonishment of the enemy. 

General Howe rubbed his eyes, and swore roundly 
at the man who brought him the information, and 
Sir Henry Clinton for awhile was incredulous. 

But it was true. 

The boys had managed to make a hole in the ceiling 

59 




60 


A Domiciliary Visit 


of their cheerless quarters, through which they had 
crept, and when the guard was changed the escape 
came to light. 

But they had not escaped without help. 

It was discovered that some one had been in the 
higher story directly above their room and had assisted 
them. 

The whole city was beat to arms. 

Soldiers were put on the alert at once, and the drag- 
net was thrown out without effect. 

Master Joe Galloway was called into consultation 
with Sir Henry and asked for his opinion. 

That worthy said at once that the Liberty Tie had 
had a hand in the jail-break, and vowed that within 
forty-eight hours he would not only have the young 
soldiers back in durance, but he would have all those 
who had taken part in the affair. 

The trail of the young provincials was lost from the 
beginning. 

The whole city was scoured for them, but without 
avail. 

Suspected patriots had their houses searched, and 
the British soldiery was not very nice in its man- 
hunt. 

Master Galloway went from Clinton’s quarters in 
no enviable frame of mind. 

Catch ’em?” he cried. “ Of course I’ll do that and 


A Domiciliary Visit 


61 


more. I’ll find out the whole plot, and show these 
rebels that the king has a mailed hand. They can’t 
remain long out of our power. When we have ’em 
again we’ll teach ’em a lesson they will never forget. 
Things have come to a pretty pass when our prisons 
can’t hold two ragamuffin captains of Washington’s 
rabble. Some one on the outside had a hand in 
this business. A good noose is needed in this city, 
and I’d like to be the one to tighten it on some necks 
I wot of. We’ve been entirely too lenient with these 
rascals. We must be a little severer. A few twisted 
necks imder a tree limb is what they need, and, by 
heavens! they shall feel the draw of a good English 
halter. Those young rascals are still in the city, 
and since they are here they are still prisoners of 
the king. So sure as my name’s Joe Galloway, I 
will catch both of ’em and turn ’em over to the 
authorities.” 

Joseph was zealous in the cause he had espoused, 
but he soon discovered that he could not have his own 
way. 

He mustered all the men he could, but they were 
not enough to carry out his wishes. 

Another day waned. 

The excitement had not abated. 

General Howe had issued orders that the whole city 
should be searched in every comer, and that any one 


62 


A Domiciliary Visit 


suspected of harboring the young patriots should be 
arrested. 

Had Joe Galloway entered a certain house not so 
very far from the old prison he might have been en- 
lightened just a little. 

Frank Lowry and his friend Benjamin Pierce might 
have been seen seated in a little room that looked out 
upon one of the darkest streets of Philadelphia. 

The young provincials were not far from the river, 
and had it been another season of the year they would 
have heard the swish of the waters. 

Their room was well shuttered, and the candle that 
gave them light stood on a small table in the middle 
of it. 

‘^No doubt we would be welcomed just now at 
Howe’s quarters,” grimly said Benjamin. “But, so 
far as I am concerned, I have no desire to present 
myself there.” 

“Not for a moment, Benjamin. We are safe here, 
but at the same time I fear we are compromising the 
safety of our friends.” 

“I thought so from the first, but they would not 
think of our giving ourselves up. In the first place, 
Tom Hapgood will come in for a goodly share of hatred 
if they should discover the part he played ia our es- 
cape. But Tom is able to take care of himself. So 
we’ll let matters stand at that.” 


A Domiciliary Visit 


63 


Presently the door opened and a young girl came in. 

The escaped captives looked up at her entrance, and 
Frank was the first to speak: 

‘^WeT get you into trouble, Mistress Lane,” he 

said. is not our desire to do this, for ” 

Never mind me,” broke in the young miss, who 
was a captivating person of perhaps seventeen. ‘‘We 
take a good many risks nowadays, and are glad to do 
so for the cause. They are still hunting for you, and 
— but here is General Howe’s proclamation and offer 
of reward.” 

Saying this, the young lady produced a printed hand- 
bill, which she held up to the late prisoners with a 
laugh. 

“It’s well worded, and ’tis said to be the work of 
that young soldier, John Andre. He is a great scholar 
and knows his lexicon like an old student. See how 
it reads, for instance, right here: ‘It is furthermore 
ordered that any person who secretes these contuma- 
cious young rebels, who are now out of durance and 
still — ^it is believed — in the city, shall forfeit all respect 
by the king’s officers and men, and shall, when ar- 
rested, be dealt with according to their acts.’ Now I 
call that nicely worded. I suppose I am one of those 
mentioned by implication in this official paper; but 
read it for yourselves.” 

She handed the proclamation over to the young 


64 


A Domiciliary Visit 


officers, and they put their heads together and perused 
it in silence. 

‘‘Pretty well done,’’ laughed Frank. “That ought 
to catch us, eh. Mistress Abby?” 

“Not if your friends can prevent,” was the quick 
answer. “We don’t intend that you shall fall back 
into the hands of the king.” 

“Rather that than compromise you,” gallantly 
replied Benjamin, as he bowed. 

“And here is something else for your delectation,” 
and the fair speaker produced another bit of paper, 
cut from one of the publications of the day. 

It was a report to the effect that the British army 
contemplated a movement in midwinter, which it was 
said would break the “backbone of the rebellion,” and 
render Washington’s position at Valley Forge unten- 
able. 

“It may mean a winter march upon the camp along 
the Schuylkill,” cried Frank. 

General Howe will never do anything of the kind. 
He never intends to march out from the good warm 
quarters of Philadelphia and face the biting blasts of 
winter up there. He is too well housed where he is to 
think of such a thing.” 

For a while longer the boys discussed the item in 
their possession, when Mistress Lane started back, and, 
with a gesture for silence, laid her hand on the door. 


A Domiciliary Visit 


65 


“There are voices out there/’ she said in low tones, 
as she stole a glance at the boys. 

In a moment the young provincials were on the 
alert. 

“What if it is the enemy?” whispered Frank. 

The young miss held her finger at her lips while she 
listened. 

“There are soldiers outside/’ she said. “They are 
following the orders of their officers, and, as this 
house may be on the suspected list, we shall have 
visitors.” 

Suddenly there came a loud knocking at the door, 
and Mistress Lane drew off. 

She pointed silently at a door in the rear of the 
little room, saying: 

“Out! I will attend to the enemy.” 

Both Frank and Benjamin were loath to go. 

The thought of leaving their friend to face the 
visitors alone was not a pleasant one, but Mistress 
Abby was obdurate. 

“Go!” she commanded. 

As the boys disappeared, she turned again to the 
door. 

“Who’s there?” she asked. 

“Open the door!” 

“In whose name?” 

“The king’s!” 


66 


A Domiciliary Visit 


‘‘Certainly, if it is ordered in the king’s name.” 

The young miss opened the door, and stepped back 
as she held it ajar. 

The wind of a winter night blew in her face. 

She looked out and saw by the light of her lone 
candle two men at the threshhold. 

“Come in, gentlemen,” she said, pleasantly. 

The men entered, and the moment Abby Lane got 
a good look at one of them she said in the same tones: 

“Am I indebted for this visit to Master Galloway?” 

“That’s my name, if you please — ^Joe Galloway.” 

The girl bowed. 

“Mistress Lane, we don’t want to put you to any 
unnecessary trouble. You are aware, perhaps, that 
two young officers of Washington’s army, prisoners 
of the king, have escaped from confinement, and we 
are hunting them. We are aware that you have rela- 
tives who are said to be rebels, though we are not sure 
that you share their opinions. But, to be on the safe 
side, we are come to take a little look through your 
house.” 

“And I am glad to show you through,” was the 
reply that stumped Master Galloway not a little. 

He hemmed and hawed like a bashful schoolboy, 
but in a moment he was the true Joe Galloway again. 

“We shall not disturb anything of yours, Mistress 
Lane, but we must look through the house.” 


A Domiciliary Visit 


67 


^ ^ Proceed, gentlemen . ’ ’ 

Come, Dick. We’ll soon get through with this job. 
Which room first, young lady?” 

^^This one, if you please, then my boudoir.” 

Joe looked round the room in the light of the 
candle. 

He glanced underneath the old-fashioned settle, 
looked up the chimney with a grin, and pronounced 
everything all right. 

^^Now, gentlemen, this way,” said Mistress Abby, 
picking up the candle and turning away. cannot 
conceive how you suspected that I would harbor any 
escaped prisoners and thus incur the displeasure of 
his excellency. General Howe.” 

‘‘We must obey orders without questioning the 
whys and wherefores of them,” replied Joe. 

Abby Lane turned suddenly upon the men. 

“Pardon me, gentlemen, I forgot something. If 
you will wait till I can go down cellar I will pro- 
vide a little for your inner comfort, for it is cold 
outside.” 

“We’ll wait. Mistress Lane.” 

Abby took another candle, lighted it by the flame 
of the first, and tripped away. 

In a few minutes she was back with her face brim- 
ming over with kindness and in her hands were two 
bottles of wine. 


68 


A Domiciliary Visit 


These she placed on the table and brought glasses 
from a sideboard. 

‘‘We keep a little wine for our friends,” she said, 
looking up archly at the Tory as she poured the wine. 
“This is not the same vintage that Timothy was 
advised to take for his stomach’s sake; but it is good 
wine nevertheless.” 

Master Galloway and his friend thought they 
needed just such a tonic at that particular hour, and 
drank off their wine with great gusto. 

Another and still another glass followed, while 
Mistress Abby chattered away like a bird. 

She became more and more beaming every minute 
and her eyes got brighter as the wine flowed. 

“Won’-t you have another bottle, gentlemen?” she 
asked, as the second was pronounced empty. “It 
is no task for me to treat my callers. No more? 
Now you can proceed with your search?” 

“We are satisfied. Mistress Lane,” said Joe. “ Fur- 
ther search of your house is unnecessary, eh, Dick?” 

Dick, who was just then looking into the girl’s 
eyes, nodded approval, and Joe Galloway rose to his 
feet. 

“This is kindness unlooked for,” he remarked. “I 
feel that rare wine at the very soles of my feet. By 
my soul. Mistress Lane ! even if we thought you were 
harboring those young rebels we could not have the 


A Domiciliary Visit 


69 


heart to drag them from the house after partaking of 
your hospitality/’ 

Five minutes later Mistress Abby Lane stood in 
the middle of the room and laughed aloud. 

men are bom fools, I do believe!” she ex- 
claimed. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE SECRET CHAMBERS 

Mistress Abby Lane tapped three times on the 
floor with her little foot, and then went to the door 
leading into another room. 

Holding it open a moment she called “Friends!’’ 
and waited a little while. 

Presently another door swung back, and she stood 
face to face with the young captains. 

“They’re gone,” said she, with an arch smile. 
“Master Galloway and his companion did not deign 
to stay long.” 

When she led the pair back into the first room she 
pointed to the empty bottles on the table and they 
understood. 

“They could not search much after drinking that 
wine,” she remarked. “It was just the sort of wine 
to warm a Britisher’s blood, and Master Galloway, the 
renegade, spake his acknowledgments in no uncertain 
tones. But we are rid of them.” 

“For good, think you, Mistress Abby?” 

“I hope so at any rate.” 

“But they may return.” 


70 


The Secret Chambers 


71 


“It is not likely. Joe Galloway makes no conceal- 
ment of his man-hunt. He is looking for you.’^ 

“Then it is essential that he does not find us in 
your house/’ spoke Frank Lowry. ^ 

“ Have no fears of that. He need not find you here. ’ ’ 

“Not for the world would we compromise you in 
the eyes of the enemy.” 

Mistress Lane smiled again. 

“Priscilla is liable to drop in at any time,” she said. 
“She promised to come to-night and ” 

All turned quickly toward the door, for voices were 
again heard there. 

“More enemies!” cried Benjamin, as he started. 

“Quick!” exclaimed the fair girl, as she pointed to- 
ward the rear door. 

“Open in the king’s name!” shouted a voice outside. 

As the boys started across the room some one seemed 
to throw himself against the portal, which cracked and 
yielded. 

In another instant several faces were seen on the 
threshold and Abby threw herself in front of her 
guests. 

“Back!” she cried, as she gave the redcoats a look 
of command. “This is a private house, and you ” 

“We want the rebel captains, miss,” was the stem 
interruption. “We are under orders and you have 
them here.” 


72 


The Secret Chambers 


The boys looked at one another, and then over 
Mistress Lane’s shoulder into the faces of the king’s 
men. 

“We want you, young sirs,” continued the British 
lieutenant. “You belong to the king.” 

The boys with one accord and in an instant counted 
their enemies, four in all. 

It was life or death with them now — either to give 
themselves up or make a break for freedom. 

“Come!” cried Frank. “We will not surrender, 
Benjamin.” 

“Never.” 

They went straight at the redcoats, Benjamin 
snatching a musket from the hands of the nearest as 
he closed with him, and Frank throwing himself upon 
the lieutenant. 

As for Mistress Abby, she did not remain idle. 

She sprung to a door and jerked it open. 

“Carlo! Carlo!” she called. 

The next moment the room rang with a hoarse 
growl and into the light leaped a large dog with gleam- 
ing eyes and open mouth. 

“At them. Carlo!” cried the girl. 

The animal leaped straight at the nearest Britisher. 

In vain did the fellow attempt to ward off the attack 
of the animal; he had him at his breast in a flash and 
fell back against the wall with Carlo at his throat. 


The Secret Chambers 


73 


All this did not seem to occupy a second. 

The confusion in the house was now very great. 

The shouting, cursing enemy struggled with their 
foes, and the dog did his part. 

Mistress Abby stood near with the lighted candle 
over her head. 

Her eyes darted flashes of joy as she saw the red- 
coats fall back toward the front entrance. 

‘^Off! Carlo, off!” she exclaimed, and the dog 
obeyed. 

Frank and Benjamin had pushed their antagonists 
to the threshold, and the dog stood growling in the 
middle of the room. 

‘‘Out, every man of you!” cried Mistress Lane. 
“If a man is left in this room another minute he will 
be dead!” 

The redcoats huddled in a group at the entrance 
when their leader bade them go. 

“ It shall not be for long, boys,” he said. “We shall 
soon have all in this rebel nest in our hands.” 

The last man passed the door, and Abby Lane 
swung it shut with a bang. 

“ Good riddance,” she laughed as the last one van- 
ished. “I think they will not forget the teeth of 
Carlo.” 

“But they will carry out their threat,” answered 
Frank. “They will surely return.” 


74 


The Secret Chambers 


^‘That they will, but the nest may be empty.’’ 

‘‘Then you will not be here?” 

“I have no notion of being dragged into the pres- 
ence of General Howe. He is well known to me, not 
only by sight, but otherwise. I danced with him 
last week.” 

“The meeting under such circumstances would not 
be to your hking,” put in Benjamin. “But ” 

“This way,” was the interruption. “We will quit 
the house at once.” 

“It may be guarded.” 

“I think not, as yet.” 

Observation showed that the young lady spoke 
truly. 

The lieutenant and his beaten subordinates retired 
crestfallen to other fields, and the inmates of the house 
could imagine them tramping through the snowy 
streets, cursing their ill luck and bemoaning their 
wounds. 

It did not take Mistress Abby long to finish her 
preparations for flight. 

Leading the way through the back yard, she reached 
a quiet street which she crossed with the young cap- 
tains at her heels. 

In a few moments she halted in front of another 
house, set a short distance off the street. 

Here she rang a door-bell and waited. 


The Secret Chambers 


75 


When the door opened she looked into the face in 
the hall and nodded to her friends. 

All three were ushered into a large hall, and thence 
into another room. 

The porter was a small boy who had an uncommonly 
bright face which was revealed by the candle he carried. 

‘‘Where is your master?’’ asked Abby. 

“They’ve just taken him away.” 

“What!” cried the girl. “Taken him away?” 

“Yes, the redcoats.” 

“Why did they take him, Julius?” 

“I don’t know. They just came in and said they 
wanted master, and that was all.” 

“The villains!” exclaimed Abby. “They won’t 
come back soon, then?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Show us to the room.” 

The boy led the way upstairs. 

As he opened another door all three peered forward, 
and the two captains uttered cries of astonishment. 

They stepped forward into a chamber hung with 
dark curtains. At one end was a raised dais covered 
with black cloth and surmounted by a table. 

“The Hall of the Liberty Tie,” said Mistress Abby, 
with a wave of her hand. 

“We’ve heard of it,” spoke Frank. 

“Of course you have,” was the reply. “This is 


The Secret Chambers 


76 ^ 


the meeting place of the conclave. Here they meet 
and discuss matters for the good of our cause. It is 
your first introduction to it, I see. Let me reveal some 
of the secrets of the place.’^ 

She stepped across the room and pulled a cord that 
dangled along the wall. 

Instantly a curtain rolled upward and the boys 
stood looking at a fine portrait of Washington on his 
white steed. 

‘‘This is only seen while the Tie is in session,” 
explained Abby Lane. “It would be dangerous to 
invite General Howe here to inspect the painting.” 

She laughed as she finished, and went to another 
part of the chamber. 

Jerking another cord, a second curtain rolled ceiling- 
ward, and the surprised youths saw a rack of weapons 
of every kind ready for action. There were cutlasses, 
pistols, straight swords, muskets, and even hand- 
grenades. 

“Why,” exclaimed Benjamin, “you have a regular 
arsenal here.” 

“Just what we may need some time,” was the quiet 
rejoinder. “There is no telling when we may be sur- 
prised by some of the king’s myrmidons. They are 
liable to come at any time. By the way, we took in 
a new member last night.” 

“Indeed?” 


The Secret Chambers 


77 


^‘Strange to say, he is near Master Galloway,’’ 
smiled Abby. ‘‘I wonder what the famous Whig 
catcher would say if he suspected that one under his 
roof belonged to the Liberty Tie?” 

^‘May he not be a spy?” asked Frank. 

^^That would be dangerous work for him. He took 
the oath and it is not a light one.” 

But spies take terrible risks,” cried Lowry. You 
cannot be too careful whom you initiate into the mys- 
teries of the Liberty Tie. You are liable to be be- 
trayed.” 

“The new candidate came well recommended.” 

“But even his endorsers may be secretly against 
you.” 

“In this case that seems impossible. Albert, as 
the new member is called, was endorsed by Mistress 
Beverley.” 

“By Priscilla?” cried the two captains in one 
breath. 

“By Priscilla,” echoed Abby Lane. “She seems to 
think a good deal of young Albert, for he is strikingly 
handsome ” 

“And thoroughly devoted to the cause? Think 
you, Mistress Abby, that Joe Galloway would keep 
one near him who is against the king?” 

“Master Galloway evidently does not know his 
protdgd’s real feelings. Men can conceal their thought 


78 


The Secret Chambers 


with ease nowadays, and I am satisfied that Albert is 
true to the cause.’’ 

^‘It would seem that he satisfied his fair endorser.” 

“He was championed by Priscilla, and she would not 
endorse the application of one whom she did not know 
was true to the cause of liberty.” 

“But if Master Galloway should suspect that this 
Albert is pla3dng him false ” 

“There would probably be a dead member of the 
Liberty Tie in his house,” grimly smiled Abby Lane. 
“I fancy, though, that Albert is shrewd enough to 
deceive the Tory, who, it seems, trusts him far. 
Now, one more bit of inspection.” 

With this the fair rebel led the way into another 
apartment, and touched what was seen to be a wooden 
button embedded in the wall. 

In another moment a panel slid back and revealed 
a darksome passageway, which seemed to lead into 
the bowels of the earth. 

The girl held her candle over the verge of the pit. 

A flight of steps were dimly visible. 

“It is the way to safety,” she said, looking up into 
the faces of her companions. “You see the Liberty 
Tie had flight in view as well as offensive operations 
against the king when it organized.” 

“Does Albert know of this passage?” asked Frank. 

“By a singular omission he was not told.” 


The Secret Chambers 


79 


^^That is good.’^ 

You do not seem to take well to our new member, 
Captain Lowry?’ ^ said Abby. 

‘‘He is too near the lion,” was the reply. 

“But Priscilla vouched for him.” 

“Even Priscilla may be deceived.” 

“As I say, Albert was not told of this passage. I 
cannot see how we overlooked it, as every candidate 
whom we initiate is informed of the avenue of escape.” 

“I am glad he was not told. I fear the Liberty Tie 
has been deceived.” 

“I cannot think so. Why, this Albert seems to 
be the pink of honor, and then he seems devoted to 
the cause of Washington. He took the vows with a 
great deal of zeal, and his eyes glowed as he spoke the 
words. We must trust Albert.” 

“You can do no more now. The die is cast and 
whether for good or evil time must tell.” 

Abby looked into the face of the young speaker, but 
did not reply. 

In a few moments she turned away and led the two 
captains from the chamber of the Liberty Tie, still 
silent and grave of aspect. 


CHAPTER VIII 


MASTER HAPGOOD AND THE REDCOATS 

“I AM glad they have not yet been discovered. 
Thus far our friends have succeeded in keeping out of 
the clutches of the hunters, but it will be only for a 
time unless they are careful.” 

“They will not fall back into the hands of the enemy 
if they can help it, rest assured of that. Mistress 
Beverley.” 

“They must not. As soon as we can open the 
avenue of freedom to them they shall go back to 
Valley Forge and be again with Washington.” 

This conversation took place in a certain house 
during the time when the two provincial captains were 
struggling with the British soldiers at Mistress Lane’s 
house. 

Priscilla Beverley, the fair rebel from Boston, had 
returned to Philadelphia, where she had already spent 
some time prior to the disastrous battle of German- 
town. 

After that engagement she left the city and returned 
to Boston, but soon came back to Philadelphia, risk- 

8o 


Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 81 


ing a good deal to get into it, for it was in the hands of 
General Howe. There she had remained with a dis- 
tant relative, as much for the purpose of rendering 
certain assistance to the cause of liberty as for any 
pleasure the stay might otherwise afford her. 

Pretty and vivacious, and a favorite with the 
British officers who often winked at her rebel senti- 
ments, she entered upon a round of gaiety, and became 
more sought after by the scarlet coated men than were 
some of the Tory belles of the Quaker City. 

She was among the first to join the league of the 
Liberty Tie, which had for its aim the best interests 
of the American cause, and, as her heart was wholly 
wrapped up in freedom, she became at once a valued 
member of that organization. 

Her companion on the night in question was a good- 
looking youth, whose face showed the marks of more 
than one campaign in the field. 

He was known as Tom Hapgood, a young Long 
Islander, whose father had been hanged at the insti- 
gation of Tories, against whom the youth had regis- 
tered a vow of vengeance. 

Tom had slipped out of Valley Forge for the pur- 
pose of picking up in Philadelphia some information 
that would benefit the patriots, and, as he was not 
known in the city, he felt assured that he would be 
successful. 


82 Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 


It was indeed Tom Hapgood whose face the two 
young prisoners had seen at the window across the 
street, and he did not hesitate to assure them that he 
would do all in his power to effect their deliverance. 

He had managed to get into the room above their 
prison, and it was largely through his ingenuity that 
the escape had been brought about. 

Already acquainted with Mistress Beverley, Tom 
knew where to find her, and he had kept her posted 
with his plans. 

Priscilla, of course, was deeply interested in the 
fate of the two young captains, and from the moment 
of their imprisonment she had exerted all her means 
looking to their deliverance. 

Frank and Benjamin did not know that her hand 
was partly in their escape, for she had advised Tom 
Hapgood, although she did not appear on the surface 
of the conspiracy. 

‘^If they are with Abby,” said Priscilla, “they may 
be accounted safe for the time at least. Joe Galloway, 
the spy catcher, will not look for them in that direc- 
tion, though sometimes I fear that he will do even 
this. He is shrewd and merciless, and if he has prom- 
ised General Clinton to find the captains he will 
leave no stone unturned to keep his word.’^ 

Tom held out his hand and suddenly closed his 
fist. 


Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 83 


wish I had this Master Galloway’s throat in 
there!” he cried, looking at Priscilla as his eyes flashed. 
“I would hold it till the mean rascal was dead. Do 
you know what I have heard since coming to the city, 
Priscilla?” 

“What have you heard?” 

“That this man would take little Mary from her 
grandparents, the old fuller and his wife. Why, she is 
but a child, while this monster is three times her age.” 

“He has no mercy.” 

“None whatever! There will come a day of ven- 
geance, and this man with all his sins will stand before 
the Great Avenger. We must look to the continued 
safety of our friends, Frank and Benjamin. If they 
can hide a few days longer they will be able to quit the 
city, for the hunt wiU slacken and ” 

“Not while Joe Galloway conducts it!” put in 
Priscilla. “His word is out with General Clinton and 
he will keep it.” 

“I will see them.” 

“Be discreet,” exclaimed the fair rebel. “Do not 
lead the hounds in red to the place where they have 
sought asylum.” 

“Trust me for that. Just now I must go down to 
Obed’s to see about my new cloth.” 

“Look out for the redcoats. They want you as 
much as they do the young captains.” 


84 Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 


‘'When they catch Tom Hapgood they will have to 
play a better game than they have been playing of 
late.” 

With this the young Long Islander departed, but 
not until he had again assured Priscilla that he would 
exercise the greatest caution and always be on the 
lookout for the enemy. 

Tom passed down the wind-swept streets of the 
city, seeing now and then some one bending his head 
to the blast. 

Here and there stood a sentry half-frozen, with his 
cloak thrown over his head while he sheltered his body 
in some friendly doorway. The British soldiers in the 
Quaker City did not like their duty, for it was both 
unprofitable and cheerless, and, while they stood 
freezing in the cold night air, they often heard from 
some near-by house sounds of revelry where their 
ofiicers made merry with the fair damsels of the city. 

Under these circumstances soldiering for the king 
was not very pleasant, and on several occasions men 
nearly mutinied. 

Was it for this, they asked themselves, that they 
had enlisted in the king^s service, while the generals 
sat by warm fires and drank wine and sang songs? 

Yet with all their discomforts they were not suffer- 
ing at all as compared with the little army of freedom 
among the hills of the Schuylkill. 


Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 85 


Barely twenty miles away Washington and his men 
were freezing in the heart of winter. 

Not only this, but the men were practically without 
rations, and for days at a time meat was not known in 
the patriot camp. 

Hundreds of men were shoeless, and those who were 
obliged to stand guard had to do so with old bits of 
blankets wrapped round their feet and nothing on their 
hands. 

Deeper and darker grew that terrible winter. 

Washington and his generals shared the discomforts 
of Valley Forge with the men. 

They wanted nothing the men did not have, and 
more than once the poor privates, huddled round a 
sickly fire, would look up and see their beloved com- 
mander in the doorway bidding them be of good cheer, 
for was he not praying for the cause in the silence of 
his cold quarters, asking the God of battles to bring 
about a brighter day, when the sun of freedom should 
warm his half-frozen men and when he could lead them 
again to victory? 

But let us return to Tom Hapgood. 

The young Long Islander made his way through one 
part of the city until he reached the shop of Obed 
Poole, the little fuller. 

Tom slipped into the shop, and made his way to the 
little back room where the fuller worked. 


86 Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 


Old Obed looked up when he heard the boy’s 
footsteps, and nodded as Tom took a stool near his 
bench. 

^Xome for your cloth?” asked Obed. 

‘^Yes, if it is ready.” 

The fuller reached up and took from a shelf a 
bundle, which he laid upon the counter in front of the 
youth. 

Tom’s hand dived beneath his jacket and came out 
clutching a pack of Continental bills. 

The old man eyed them suspiciously. 

^‘What! you offer to pay me in that rotten cur- 
rency?” he cried. 

“Why not? ’Tis all I’ve got.” 

“What’s back of it, boy?” 

“America!” 

Old Obed picked up one of the little bills and held 
it between him and the light. 

“It doesn’t look much like British gold,” he laughed. 
“When the king’s men get cloth of me they plank 
down a lot of yellow coins, and I tell you they make 
one’s eyes water for more.” 

“Of course they do,” cried Tom. “But I’ve got 
no British gold, because I am not just now in the 
service of the king.” 

“But how did you run across that lot of useless 
stuff?” 


Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 87 


‘‘1 got it — where it was to be had. It’s not the 
finest currency in the world, I know that, but when 
it’s all a fellow’s got, why he’s got to offer it in pay- 
ment for what he buys, hasn’t he?” 

‘‘You are right, but such money I never saw,” 
and Obed threw the bill upon the table and smiled. 
“It represents Washington and his cause, and, by 
my soul! it reminds me of some of the rags I saw the 
rebels wear when they left the city the last time.” 

Tom bit his lip at this remark, but did not speak. 

“I’ll take it, but it don’t buy much,” continued 
the fuller. “I would rather have one piece of British 
money than a wagonload of this stuff.” 

“Just as you please. Master Poole,” observed Tom. 

In another minute the boy had picked up his bundle 
and was about to make for the street when he heard 
voices in the front shop and stopped. 

He knew from the sounds that several men were 
there, and as he looked through the partly open door 
he saw them come forward. 

British soldiers! 

Tom’s heart leaped into his throat, but he did not 
betray himself, for Obed was watching him carefully. 

Presently the door was swung wholly open, and a 
redcoat appeared in the light of the little shop-keeper’s 
lamp. 

“Here, Master Poole, whom have we here?” cried 


88 Master Hap good and the Redcoats 


the foremost fellow, a stalwart sergeant. “By my 
life! you have young customers at this unseemly 
hour.^» 

Tom had fallen back against the counter with the 
bundle under his arm and was looking at the new- 
comers. 

“I say, you, sir, what have you under your arm?” 
demanded the same fellow. 

“My own property, sir.” 

“Say you so? And, by my life! he has paid for it 
in rebel rags,” and before any one could interfere the 
fellow had darted upon the Continental money on the 
counter and was holding it up to the gaze of his com- 
rades. 

“No king’s man pays for goods in these rags,” he 
went on. “You must be a rebel.” 

Tom’s eyes got a sudden flash, but he held his 
tongue. 

“Open your pack there and let us peep into it,” 
cried the sergeant. “Anything that is paid for with 
rebel money may be contraband of war. We are 
just now looking for spies in this city, and there’s no 
telling where we’re liable to find ’em . Open up, young 
sir!” 

“There’s nothing in the packet but cloth which 
the young gentleman has purchased,” interposed 
Obed, thinking to do his customer a favor. “I had 


Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 89 


to take his scrip, for he had nothing else, and I know 
the money is not worth the paper it is printed on.’’ 

‘‘You have not been asked for your explanation,” 
snapped the sergeant. “Come, boy, open up your 
pack!” 

Tom complied with the best grace he could assume. 

He unrolled the cloth upon the counter to the gaze of 
all and looked up into the faces of the enemy. 

He was in close quarters and he knew it. 

“Seems to me you’re going to come out in fine 
feathers,” laughed the big sergeant. “Where do you 
live, young sir?” 

“Down on lower Chestnut.” 

“And you’ll be cock of the walk down there in your 
new toggery. I say, I don’t think you’ve got a right 
to pay for cloth in rebel money.” 

“Not when it was all I had? Had I gold I would 
have paid for my goods in that sort of stuff, but as 
I had nothing but this kind of currency ” 

“We’ll investigate. Down on Chestnut, eh? Come 
along with us, young sir. We’ll see about this story.” 

Tom’s heart gave a great leap, and he nearly dropped 
the packet he had commenced to tie up. 

What! go with the soldiers? He knew what would 
probably follow. 

In an instant he looked over the ground, saw that 
the privates had stepped aside to warm their half- 


90 Master Hapgood and the Redcoats 


frozen bodies, and that no one but the sergeant stood 
between him and the door. 

“Now for it! Fortune favor Tom Hapgood!” he 
exclaimed under his breath, and the next second his 
body shot out and the big redcoat fell against the 
wall. Tom was already in the front room bounding 
toward the street, still clutching his bundle of cloth. 

He knew that imprisonment and worse lay behind 
him. 


CHAPTER IX 


CROSS PURPOSES 

‘‘The young rascal!^’ roared the sergeant, as he 
gathered himself together. “Catch ’im boys, and 
we’ll hang him with a piece of his cloth. Don’t let 
him get away. A month’s pay that he’s a rebel spy! 
Out after him!” 

There was a break for the door, and the men went 
out pell mell into the street. 

In a few minutes they came straggling back, pretty 
well blown. 

“Did you get him?” asked Obed. 

“No. We didn’t even see him. He must have the 
feet of a fox, for he was out of sight when we reached 
the door.” 

“You helped him out, sir,” cried the sergeant, com- 
ing in at that moment and facing Obed in a rage. 
“You knew what he was and sold him the cloth, 
knowing too that he would pay you in this infernal 
rebel money.” 

“Begging pardon, my friend, I knew nothing of the 
kind. I had not even accepted his money yet, though 
91 


92 


Cross Purposes 


he had laid it on the counter. How is one to live, 
tell me, when he must take such stuff as this?’^ and 
Obed seized the currency which Tom had left and 
threw it to the floor. 

“That’s better,” was the reply. “But if we ever 
catch that young scamp he shall swing for his rude- 
ness. How do we know that he was not a rebel 
spy?” 

“I’m sure I cannot tell.” 

“The next time he comes to your shop hold him.” 

“I’ll try that,” answered Obed. “But, from what 
I’ve seen to-night of his agility, I fear he will be a 
slippery fox to hold.” 

The sergeant answered with a curse, for he was still 
suffering from his sudden fall, and turned to his men: 

“Not a word about this,” he said. “We won’t want 
to go back to quarters with the report that a boy has 
outwitted us.” 

The men were satisfied to obey, and presently all 
filed from the fullery, leaving its owner in quiet 
possession. 

As for Tom, he was far from the scene of his unex- 
pected encounter with King George’s men. 

He had congratulated himself upon his escape, and 
now, as he unrolled his cloth in the light of a small lamp 
in an uncouth attic which was not on lower Chestnut 
Street, he smiled to himself. 


Cross Purposes 


93 


But his adventures for the night were not yet at an 
end. 

He was still inspecting the cloth when he heard 
footsteps come up the stairs, which were not carpeted, 
and as he turned to the door it opened. 

A young man came in and looked searchingly at the 
Long Islander. 

Tom rose and went forward. 

“What is it?’’ he asked. 

In reply the youth held up his right hand and made 
a singular pass in the air. 

“What! are they after them?” cried Tom. “You 
can mean but the one thing. Our friends are in 
danger. I understand the sign. I will go.” 

The strange youth turned on his heel and went 
from the room without further questioning. 

Tom secreted his purchase between the mattresses 
of the bed, and followed. 

Down on the street he got his bearings, and in a 
short time reached the last house where the young 
captains, Frank and Benjamin, were seen. 

He was in the act of entering when he heard a 
slight noise behind him, and the next moment he turned 
to look at a sight that sent a chill of fear to his heart. 

A file of British soldiers had halted within a few 
feet of him and were standing like statues in the 


snow. 


94 


Cross Purposes 


Tom drew back a step and looked at them while he 
thought fast. 

“This way/’ said the leader of the redcoats, as he 
pointed straight at the young Long Islander. “ Come 
to me!” 

Tom saw that obedience was the quicker way out of 
the difficulty and sullenly obeyed. 

“Who occupies the house?” asked the captain. 

“I cannot say.” 

“You were about to enter?” 

“Not I. I had mistaken the place. Isn’t this 
Arch Street?” 

“You know it is not.” 

“What! don’t tell me that?” cried Tom. “Then I 
will not get to see her before she dies.” 

He put his hand up to his face and seemed to wipe 
a tear from his eye. 

“Who’s dying, young sir?” 

“My sister — ^my sister Pauline. I am from over in 
Jersey. She sent for me, and I thought I should see 
her before she died. I don’t know the city, but some 
one told me this was Arch Street and I though it was, 
you see.” 

“Who are you, sir?” 

“Benjamin Blocker, from near Bordentown. My 
sister Pauline — ^my only sister at that ” 

Tom broke down in the most approved style. 


Cross Purposes 


95 


The heart of the captain in red seemed to soften 
toward him. 

‘^You look honest, you do, indeed, boy, and if it 
weren’t for the fact that I believe you we would have 
you tell your story to General Howe.” 

“What more could I say? And should I be taken 
to General Howe I would miss the opportunity of ever 
seeing my sister Pauline alive. Oh, Pauline! — 
Pauline! ” 

“Go! boy, go!” cried the British captain. “Arch 
Street is over yonder — three squares. I hope you’ll 
find her alive.” 

“Oh, you are too kind,” cried Tom. “I shall 
never forget your generosity. I shall tell Paul- 
ine and she will bless you before she "dies. She 
was a good sister to me, for we were both orphans, 
and ” 

“Confound it, boy, why don’t you go if you want to 
see your sister alive?” broke in the captain. “We’ve 
got business in this house.” 

“Who lives here?” 

“That’s just what we’re going to find out. But you 
needn’t stay.” 

Tom would liked to have remained, but after the 
story he had told he saw that it would not correspond 
with his so-called errand, therefore he thanked the 
British captain again and vanished. 


96 


Cross Purposes 


At the first alley he darted out of sight and ran down 
the narrow way some distance. 

In a little while he found himself in the rear of the 
houses that lined the street, and soon afterward entered 
the garden in the rear of the house from which he had 
been driven. 

The door opened in response to his signal. 

In another moment Tom was inside. 

^‘The enemy is at the door!” he cried, seizing the 
sleeve of the young girl whom he encountered. “The 
British are out there!” 

“I know it.” 

“IVe just escaped them. They are after Frank 
and Benjamin.” 

“That is known, too.” 

“Some one has betrayed us.” 

“Why so?” 

“The presence of the soldiers at the door tells me 
that. What will you do?” 

“Let them pound the house down.” 

“They must not break in,” cried Tom. “If they 
do they will find the secret chamber of the Tie.” 

Abby Lane drew back and smiled as she heard some 
one strike the front door a heavy blow. 

“That is but the beginning,” said Tom. “They 
will break the door in.” 

“I think not. You must not be seen in here.” 


Cross Purposes 


97 


“I’d rather not be seen, that’s a fact,” was the 
reply. 

“I told those soldiers a pitiful story which they were 
fools enough to beheve and ” 

Mistress Lane pushed him back as another blow 
sounded on the door. 

“The time has come!” she said at his ear. “The 
master of the house is in the hands of the British. 
You know what the Tie is to do if discovery cannot 
be prevented?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then help me. Everything is ready in the room 
yonder. The tinder is there in the tinder-box in its 
place on the wall.” 

“What will 3^ou do?” 

“Hold them out till you have struck the flame.” 

“Go, then,” cried Tom Hapgood. “I’ve struck 
fire before.” 

Abby turned toward the front door and Tom ran 
into an adjoining room. 

He glanced at the high ceiling and the old-fashioned 
furniture. 

In one corner of the room was piled a lot of trum- 
pery, over which was scattered some inflammable 
material. A tinder-box rested on a little shelf near 
all this stuff. 

As the youth bounded forward he caught the sounds 


98 


Cross Purposes 


of voices at the door, and he knew that Abby was 
parleying with the men outside. 

‘‘ She^s worth her weight in gold,’’ thought the young 
patriot. 

Snatching the tinder-box from its shelf, Tom 
stooped over the prepared material and struck a 
light. 

The spark communicated at once with the lint on 
top of the pile and then a little flame danced along 
the heap. 

It showed his determined face as it leaped up and 
he looked on a moment. 

‘Tn a minute, gentlemen,” cried Abby, to the sol- 
diers on the step. “I’ll get the key.” 

“ If you don’t we’ll break the door down,” came back 
in response. 

“Don’t do that, for mercy’s sake!” 

Abby Lane appeared suddenly at Tom’s side. 

She looked at the fire for a moment and then caught 
his arm. 

“Come!” she cried. “To the secret way!” 

Tom followed her from the doomed chamber and 
glanced at the door in the hall. He saw that it would 
resist some time, for a heavy plank secured it, and it 
would take the stoutest soldier in the king’s army to 
beat it down. 

The flames leaped higher and higher, and the last 


Cross Purposes 


99 


look of the pair into the room told them that the 
destruction of the house was assured. 

Mistress Lane hurried Tom to the dark passage into 
which we have already looked and almost pushed him 
down the steps. 

“You’re coming, too, aren’t you?” asked Tom, as 
he looked back. 

“Certainly. This is all for the cause.” 

Two minutes later the young pair came out upon 
a dark street, and in a little while they heard the 
shouts of men and saw a light that revealed the houses 
about them. 

“It’s the house,” said Tom. 

“You did your work well,” was the reply. “They 
can’t save the House of the Tie.” 

Shouts of fire were now heard in every direction, 
and the forms of men, principally redcoats, were 
seen on all sides. 

Tom and Abby stood screened by another house, 
and for some time watched the progress of the 
flames. 

They leaped higher and higher, until the whole 
neighborhood seemed threatened with destruction. 

“The snow will save the other buildings,” whispered 
the girl at Tom’s side. ‘^The coating of snow on the 
roofs is heavy, but the ‘nest’ is doomed.” 

They now hurried away, narrowly missing several 


100 


Cross Purposes 


detachments of soldiers who had been hurried to the 
scene, and at last stood in a place of safety. 

“Who did the act?” asked a voice at their ears, and 
they turned as though a serpent had hissed behind 
them. 

“Who struck the light, I say?” 

“Albert!” cried Abby, as she recognized Gallo- 
way’s proteg6. “It had to be done. The enemy were 
at the door and the time had come.” 

Albert’s face glowed with enthusiasm and he looked 
straight into Tom’s eyes. 

“You must have done it,” he said. “Well, it was 
well done, for they didn’t get to see what the ‘nest’ 
contained. They were driven back by the fire. Now 
perhaps your friends are safe for a time.” 

“My friends?” 

“Yes, the young captains.” 

“Oh! So you think I am looking out for them? 
One must look to himself first of all these days. You 
are in Joe Galloway’s house and I don’t like that. 
Master Albert.” 

“Whether you like it or not, young sir, I am there 
just the same. Joe Galloway has been kind to me 
and ” 

“And my head for it that he has sent you into the 
circle of the Tie for a purpose.” 

Albert colored deeply at this. 


Cross Purposes 


101 


^‘You may wrong him/’ put in Abby, addressing 
Tom. You must remember that he is one of us.” 

“I know he is, but, just the same, he still belongs 
to Joe Galloway, the spy catcher of Philadelphia. 
And let me tell you, sir,” he turned again toward 
Albert, “If I catch you at your treason your life won’t 
be worth that!” and he snapped his fingers in the 
astonished youth’s face. “One who breathes the 
air Joe Galloway does can’t be heart and soul for 
freedom.” 


CHAPTER X 


THE ANGER OF CLINTON 

Sir Henry Clinton of the king’s forces was a 
man easily provoked. 

The escape of the young captains nettled him not 
a little, and he cursed the ^‘slowness” of Joe Galloway, 
while he might have believed, from what he knew of 
the man, that he was doing all in his power to recap- 
ture the fugitives. 

It was nearly midnight when he heard the spy 
catcher parleying with the headquarters guard, and, 
rising from his chair, he gave orders that Joe should be 
immediately admitted. 

The Tory came in and saluted, then dropped into 
a chair. 

Clinton looked at him searchingly for half a minute 
and then said sharply: 

‘^They’re not caught yet, I suppose?” 

‘^Not yet,” admitted Joe, with ill grace. 

“You promised that within forty-eight hours you 
would break up this organization called the Liberty 

Tie ” 

“I did.” 

102 


The Anger of Clinton 


103 


‘^What have you accomplished?” 

“Something.” 

“Well?” 

“The ‘nest’ is gone.” 

“How so?” 

“It is a mass of ruins.” 

“You burnt it, eh?” 

“No, the soldiers were so close upon the heels of 
the Liberty Tie that they fired the building.” 

“And got away?” 

Joe doggedly admitted that the enemy had es- 
caped. 

“This must not go on!” and Clinton struck the table 
with his fist. “Do you think I am to suffer these little 
defeats at the hands of a few rebels while I command 
a part of the king’s army in Philadelphia? I will not. 
I want the members of the Liberty Tie, and, more than 
that, I want those young rebel captains.” 

“You shall have all if you will give me time, your 
excellency.” 

“Time!” roared Clinton, coloring. “How much 
time do you want? A year or a month?” 

“Neither,” coolly answered Joe, for he knew how to 
take the general. “I must have a little time. I 
can’t throw out my arms and take all at once.” 

“I was led to believe that you could bring all in 
within forty-eight hours.” 


104 


The Anger of Clinton 


“They are not quite up yet.’’ 

“But you haven’t a single prisoner.” 

“True, your excellency, but ” 

The door swung open again, and Colonel John 
Simcoe of the Queen’s Rangers stood before the pair. 

“ In good time. Colonel Simcoe,” cried Clinton. “I 
want to confer with you. Come, don’t go. This is 
not a private matter, and what I have to say can be 
heard by Master Galloway.” 

Between Joe and the commander of the Queen’s 
Rangers the best of feeling did not exist, and the bow 
given by the latter was cold and haughty. 

“ Colonel Simcoe, you know all about the escape of 
these young rebels whom we had confined in the lower 
part of the city,” said Clinton. “The whole army is 
actually laughing at our failure to apprehend them, 
when, in fact, they are surrounded by the king’s 
troops. I will not stand this. It disgraces me in the 
eyes of my brother officers, and ” 

“I thought Master Galloway here had promised to 
have them back in your hands by this time.” 

“He promised that and more, too,” was the reply. 
“I gave him a special commission, and he was to 
break up the secret league known^ as the Liberty 
Tie.” 

“Which, from what I hear, still exists.” 

Galloway shot Colonel Simcoe a look of indignation. 


The Anger of Clinton 


105 


He was being prejudiced in the eyes of General 
Clinton. 

‘Tf Colonel Simcoe,” said Joe, tartly, “will only 
attend to his own command, I will take care of my- 
self.’’ 

The Colonel of the Queen’s Rangers glanced across 
the table at the spy catcher, but did not reply. 

“Such a deplorable state of affairs must not exist 
here,” continued Sir Henry. “It makes our powers 
a laughing matter for the rebels who still inhabit the 
city. What will become of our boasted authority 
if we cannot break up a cabal or catch a couple of 
rescued prisoners who are still within our own hnes?” 

“We might as well abandon the war.” 

“That is it exactly. Colonel Simcoe. My friend 
here,” he nodded toward Joe, “is either dilatory or he 
has lost his old-time enterprise.” 

“Neither!” cried Galloway, flushing imder the 
rebuke. “If your excellency does not trust me he 
can find another agent. Perhaps Colonel Simcoe of 
the boasted Rangers might take the commission.” 

“Of the ‘boasted Rangers,’ say you?” exclaimed 
Simcoe. “We make no boasts that we cannot per- 
form. We do not hunt people at night and permit 
them to buy us off with a bottle of wine.” 

This reference to Joe’s visit to Abby Lane’s house 
caused the cheeks of the spy catcher to crimson. 


106 


The Anger of Clinton 


“What’s that?” he cried, springing up and facing 
the cool-headed Simcoe. “Who said anything about 
being bought off with a bottle of wine?” 

“I did, sir.” 

“To whom do you refer?” 

“Your face answers that question.” 

“My face? By the Lord! I will not be insulted 
in the presence of the king’s general.” 

“It’s an insult then, is it?” 

“It’s false!” cried Joe. “It is the false tongue of 
an enemy who would prejudice me with those in 
authority.” 

“Indeed?” 

Simcoe’s voice was the perfection of sarcasm. 

“How is this, colonel?” asked Clinton, who seemed 
to enjoy the dispute between his two servants. 
“What’s all this about a bottle of wine?” 

“Ask Master Galloway.” 

Joe fairly roared in his rage. 

He leaned across the table and pointed a finger 
straight at Simcoe’s face. 

“You, sir,” he said, through clenched teeth, “you, 
sir, a king’s officer, wearing the king’s uniform, taking 
into your ranks without question a spy fresh from 
Valley Forge. What say you to that?” 

It was Simcoe’s turn to look amazed, and he stared 
at Joe for half a minute nonplussed. 


The Anger of Clinton 


107 


‘T enlist no spies!’’ he said, when he found his 
tongue. 

Joe fell back and laughed derisively. 

‘‘That’s almost a charge, colonel,” said Clinton. 

“Yes and, by heavens! the person who makes it 
shall swallow his lie!” 

“Just as you please,” was the reply. “You have 
recently enlisted in the Queen’s Rangers a man who 
came direct from Washington to play the part of spy 
right here in Philadelphia.” 

“It is false!” 

Joe was in his element now. 

“It is true!” he said. “You have had the fellow 
sworn into the service, thereby giving him a chance 
to carry out his designs, and he is now doing so.” 

Colonel Simcoe rose slowly and towered above the 
seated man like a giant. 

“I would resent that insult if it came from another 
source, but I can’t do it as it is.” 

“Insult, forsooth!” laughed Joe. “I am the equal 
of Colonel John Simcoe of the Queen’s Rangers. I 
never hanged an old man whom I knew was inno- 
cent of all wrongdoing, and I never took the last 
sheep of a poor starving Long Island widow.” 

“And I!” hissed Simcoe, “I never attempted to rob 
an old couple of a little girl who was sent to comfort 
and provide for them in their old age.” 


/ 


108 


The Anger of Clinton 


Clinton burst into a laugh. 

^‘By my lifeT’ said he, ‘T am commanding a lot of 
gentlemen if all I hear is true.’^ 

“Ask Obed Poole,’’ said Simcoe. 

Joe stammered. 

“Is it not true?” and the finger of the Colonel of the 
Queen’s Rangers covered his face. 

“Colonel Simcoe,” he cried, finding his tongue at 
last, “if you will only hang Captain Stark, your last 
recruit, you will clear your skirts somewhat.” 

“What’s that?” 

“You heard me, sir.” 

“Repeat that remark if you will.” 

“I say that if you will hang Captain Willis Stark, 
the alleged deserter, you will clear your skirts of some 
of the dirt of villainy that clings there.” 

“Why the man is sincere.” 

“The man is Washington’s spy.” 

“He swore into the king’s service.” 

“And risked his neck in doing so. He hoodwinked 
you completely.” 

“I can’t beheve it.” 

“Even now perhaps he is back in Valley Forge.” 

“Colonel, this is bad if true,” remarked Clinton, 
looking at the leader of the Queen’s Rangers. 

“It is true,” said Joe. 

“It’s an infernal fie! Why haven’t you kept your 


The Anger of Clinton 


109 


word to General Clinton? The liberty Tie is still in 
existence. You havenT even cropped the wings of this 
secret eagle.” 

You, sir, have given Captain Stark, the rebel spy, 
all the opportunity he desired to play out his little 
game.” 

say it is false.” 

Colonel Simcoe drew his sword and came round the 
table with his eyes fastened upon the white-faced man, 
who watched him like a hawk. 

General Clinton leaned back in his chair and looked 
at both. 

Joe kept his gaze riveted upon Simcoe and held 
aloof. 

He was a man of powerful physique and active as a 
cat. 

His eyes seemed to turn another color, from dark to 
a steel gray, as Simcoe advanced. 

‘^Take it back or with my sword I’ll ram the lie 
down your throat,” grated the red-coated Colonel, 
never retract the truth.” 

The next second there was an oath and a mad lunge, 
and a flash of scarlet seemed to shoot round the table. 

But Joe was as quick as the hot-headed Ranger, and 
his right hand, darting forward, caught Simcoe’s wrist, 
at the risk of some blood letting, and dextrously twisted 
the sword from his grasp. 


no 


The Anger of Clinton 


Then he went straight at the colonel of the Rangers. 

Swinging out his left hand he took Simcoe under the 
eye and nearly lifted him off his feet. 

It was all done so quickly that Clinton hardly real- 
ized it, and he did not do so until he saw Simcoe 
pitch backward and topple against the wall. 

The spy catcher followed up his sudden advantage, 
and before the pudgy figure of Sir Henry could reach 
the spot he had delivered another blow which pun- 
ished the doughty colonel anew. 

Clinton, now alarmed for the safety of his colonel, 
caught Joe by the arm and tried to pull him back. 

Joe resisted for a little while, but at last gave in. 

But as Clinton pulled back, his feet slipped from 
under him and the two men pitched away, striking the 
table and overturning it. 

It was a nice mess in the quarters of a British gen- 
eral, for the inkstand went with the table, and over the 
bosom of Sir Henry’s brilliant uniform was a sea of 
black. 

Joe was the first to scramble to his feet. He got 
up with some difficulty, but not until he had dyed 
his hands with the same sombre fluid; while Sir 
Henry, swearing like a pirate, pulled himself together 
and kicked a chair out of his way. 

^‘Get out!” he roared to Joe. “But for you it 
would not have happened.” 


The Anger of Clinton 


111 


“If your excellency will only 

“Don’t you ^yom excellency’ me,” was the inter- 
ruption. “Get out! I say. Go and find the young 
rebels and break up the Liberty Tie or I’ll hang you 
higher than Hamaan. You’re the ruination of a fifty- 
guinea uniform, and, by my soul! I’ll either take it 
out of your wages or your hide.” 

“Out of neither, your excellency,” said Joe, as he 
caught Sir Henry by the arm and bent forward a 
little. “I’m a dangerous man, and if I am to be dis- 
believed, while that wretch yonder has your ear, let 
me quit the king’s service now and forever.” 

“No, go and do your duty. Colonel Simcoe, you 
will shake hands with Master Galloway and forget this 
little tiff.” 

But Simcoe drew off, shaking his head. 

“Shake hands with Joe Galloway?” he cried. “I 
have never yet fondled a Tory cur!” 

With this he turned on his heel, after picking up 
his sword, and slammed the door in the faces of the 
other two. 

Clinton frowned and the spy catcher laughed. 


CHAPTER XI 


SHOT FREE 

Thanks to the adroitness of Mistress Lane, the 
two young provincial captains escaped from the house 
of the Liberty Tie in time to get clear of the enemy. 

Frank and Benjamin knew that the British would 
not give up the hunt for them, and they were, there- 
fore, on the alert. 

Both were desirous of meeting Priscilla again, for 
they knew that that young lady was fertile in strata- 
gem, and they counted largely upon her assistance. 

They did not care to go back to Valley Forge until 
they could convey thither to Washington something 
that would serve him in the future; but, at the same 
time, it was not their intention to remain unneces- 
sarily long in Philadelphia when they realized that the 
English drag-net which had been thrown out for them 
might secure them at any time. 

A few hours after their egress from the house they 
saw upon the street a file of soldiers led by a captain. 

The men bent their heads to the biting wind and 
drew their military cloaks the closer round their forms. 
“Haltr^ 


II2 


Shot Free 


113 


The detachment obeyed, and beneath the window 
of their new abode the boys saw a prisoner led 
forth. 

He had been invisible until this moment, and the 
young provincials started back amazed. 

The prisoner was an old white-haired man, with 
erect figure and a defiant mien. 

On the opposite side of the street stood a large elm, 
whose outspreading branches were white with snow. 

During the occupation of the Quaker City by the 
enemy more than one patriot had been given short 
shrift by the redcoats, and it was not an uncommon 
sight for the early risers to see suspended from the 
limb of some tree the stiffened corpse of one of their 
compatriots. 

^Ht is to be an execution !’’ cried Frank, as he looked 
at Benjamin. ‘‘The old man’s crime is a love of 
liberty, and he will have to pay for it at a rope’s 
end.” 

“Must it be so? Those villains have no mercy. 
They left what little they had on the other side of the 
water.” 

“So it seems, but it is in keeping with British 
policy. The old man is not afraid to die.” 

They now saw a rope produced by one of the soldiers, 
and the old patriot’s hands were lashed on his 
back. 


114 


Shot Free 


He shivered in the cold wind that came up over the 
ice-locked Delaware, and looked upward at the gaunt 
branch between him and the starless sky. 

There were ten redcoats in all, and their leader 
was a large, gruff-looking fellow who carried an old- 
fashioned lantern in one hand. 

The two captains at the window opposite this scene 
felt their blood course hot through their veins. 

They had long since grown tired of British cruelty, 
and this dastardly act only strengthened their hatred. 

‘‘Why not attempt to save him?’^ said Benjamin. 
“It is hard to die at the end of a rope, and probably 
if we had not fled from the house of the Tie when we 
did our fate would be the same as the old man’s. 
Let us try it, Frank.” 

With scant ceremony, the rope was thrown over the 
limb, the old man was hustled underneath it, and the 
men formed a circle round him. 

“The muskets!” cried Benjamin. “They told us 
where to find them. We can at least shoot the old 
patriot free and perhaps save his life.” 

They sprang back into another room and soon re- 
turned to the window with a pair of muskets. 

“Throw up the sash,” said Frank. 

Benjamin did so and they thrust the weapons for- 
ward. 

“A little volley will disconcert those fellows and 


Shot Free 


115 


give the old man a chance to run for his life. Ready 
now?” 

“Ready!” whispered back Benjamin. 

By this time the rope had been thrown over the 
prisoner's head and adjusted. 

“Don’t hit the old man,” whispered Frank. “Let 
the mob have it in the middle.” 

The reports of the two muskets were blended into 
one on the clear night air, and two men fell back from 
beneath the tree. 

The prisoner started, for one of the struck men was 
he who held the rope. 

The noose slipped from the captive’s head and left 
him free, all but his bound hands. 

Throwing back his head he started off like a 
deer. 

The British looked bewildered, started back, and 
threw up their guns. 

Their leader was the first to recover. 

The old man was still observable against the snow 
that covered the street, but he was exerting himself 
to his utmost. 

“Fire!” rang out the voice of the captain of the red- 
coats. 

Seven muskets blazed forth, lighting up the scenery 
for considerable space and filling the air with their 
reports. 


116 


Shot Free 


‘‘That much while prisoners of the king/’ smiled 
Frank Lowry. “I hope the old man was not hit.” 

The Britishers were reloading, and in the confusion 
of the moment the boys lowered the sash. 

“They’ll assail the house next. No, they are pick- 
ing up their fallen comrades and are going off. No 
doubt this execution was not ordered by high author- 
ity, hence they do not care to follow it up. It must 
have emanated in the brain of some Tory captain in 
the king’s service.” 

Sure enough, the soldiers were retracing their 
steps, and the boys watched them until the last one 
vanished. 

“To-morrow will tell what comes of this,” Frank 
continued. “Now if we could see Priscilla ” 

“I am here, young gentlemen,” and there stood 
Priscilla Beverley in the doorway, looking at them 
with a smile on her face. 

“You must have fired into the street from the win- 
dow,” she went on. “I heard the shots, first two, 
though they seemed but one, and then a stronger 
volley.” 

Benjamin hastened to explain. 

“It was right to succor the prisoner,” said Priscilla, 
“but I fear it will lead to more trouble.” 

“It is too late to recall those shots. We must take 
what comes, Mistress Priscilla.” 


Shot Free 


117 


“Always. I find no fault, for the old man^s only 
crime was adherence to the cause of Washington. 
Now we will go to the other room.^’ 

She led the way from the front room and opened a 
door. 

“Come in, captain.’’ 

There entered a handsome man, at sight of whom the 
young provincials uttered a cry : 

“Captain Stark 1” 

“Yes, Stark, of the Legion,” replied that worthy, 
advancing. “I am glad to have found you.” 

“We left you at Valley Forge, captain ” 

“And I find you in Philadelphia.” 

“Prisoners of the king, though out on bail,” smiled 
Frank. “And you?” 

“I came down here on a little mission. You have 
heard of Joe Galloway?” 

“The man who wants us very badly just now. He 
is the spy catcher for King George.” 

“And the man I want to meet.” 

“But, captain, are you not in danger?” 

“Bless you,” cried Stark, with a grin, “I am now 
enlisted in Simcoe’s Rangers.” 

“Regularly so?” 

“Yes, sworn into the service of his majesty the 
king. I know that my neck is ever in the noose from 


118 


Shot Free 


now till the close of the war, but that stands not in 
the way of vengeance.” 

Was it solely to meet Joe Galloway that you came 
thither?” 

“Not quite, though that was the main incentive. 
This wretch is on his last quarter. This man who 
hangs without mercy and nets those whose only crime 
is love of liberty must perish. He has encumbered 
the earth too long already.” 

“Then you have also a personal grievance?” 

“Aye, haven’t I?” cried Captain Stark. “I had 
a brother not long ago, one younger than myself. 
He was mother’s manly boy and my favorite of six 
others. He fell into the hands of this same Joe Gal- 
loway, who sought his blood because he loved free- 
dom. He wove round my brother a net which the 
powers that be could not break, and one day I found 
that boy hanging to the limb of a tree on the Wissa- 
hickon. Do you think I did not register a vow before 
heaven to pay that monster back? Think you that I 
will let some other than myself settle the debt I owe 
Joe Galloway? I would be an ingrate if I did. Nay, 
I am here as a spy; but here, too, for retribution 1” 

As Captain Stark paused silence fell in the little 
room, and the figure of the rebel spy and avenger 
seemed to increase in stature. 

“ Until I have settled with that man I will not quit 


Shot Free 


119 


this city,” continued the spy. am here to pay the 
debt of vengeance, and I shall pay it in full.” 

‘‘Does Joe Galloway suspect?” 

“I cannot say, and it matters little to me if he does. 
He may postpone the day of vengeance, but he cannot 
put it off forever.” 

“But as a member of the Queen’s Rangers you may 
be suspected, and you know what Colonel Simcoe is.” 

“I know it all, young gentlemen. I counted the 
risks among the huts of Valley Forge, and I would not 
remain away. They are after you. The drag-net of 
General Clinton is out and they hope to pull you in. 
I am here to help you all I can. I ” 

Priscilla, who had listened to all this in silence, sud- 
denly threw her finger to her lip, and the captain 
paused. 

Had the red-coated detachment returned? 

“It is not the foe this time,” said the girl. “I hear 
the signal of the Tie at the door.” 

As she started across the room Frank sprang after 
her and laid his hand on her wrist. 

“What is it. Captain Lowry?” 

“If it is Albert, don’t let him in.” 

“Why, we trust Albert,” said Priscilla, with a look. 
“He is one of us.” 

“I know, but he is so near Joe Galloway.” 

“He has taken the oath of the Tie. He has sworn 


120 


Shot Free 


to know nothing but obedience to our league. Albert 
is loyal to liberty/^ and with this, Priscilla laid her 
hand on the latch. 

The boys looked at one another, while Captain 
Stark watched the portal keenly. 

As the door opened Frank let a light cry escape him. 

‘‘As I feared,’^ he said to himself. “It is Albert, 
the suspected. It is the protege of the spy catcher.’^ 

Albert entered the room, led by Priscilla, and the 
next moment he stood in the presence of all. 

Never before perhaps had the young man looked so 
handsome, with his brilliant eyes and erect figure. 

He was a youthful Adonis, as lithe as a young Indian, 
and it was not strange that the belles of the Quaker 
City had raved over his looks. 

He threw one hand to his forehead and brushed back 
a stray lock, while he looked straight into the eyes of 
those before him. 

“Your friends?” he said, in silvery tones to Priscilla, 
to whom he turned. 

“My friends — the friends of the Liberty Tie,” was 
the reply. 

“Then I welcome them,” said Albert; but that 
moment he caught the eye of Captain Stark. 

“Who is this. Mistress Priscilla?” asked the rebel 
spy, as he held out his hand. 

“ ’Tis Albert of the League.” 


Shot Free 


121 


Captain Stark^s gaze became fixed upon the youth. 

‘‘Does he not live near Joe Galloway?” he asked. 

The boy did not flinch. 

“I am his protegd,” he said, coloring. “But I dare 
not tell him that I hate him.” 

“Too near the monster, entirely too near,” said 
Stark. “And you trust him. Mistress Beverley?” 

“He is one of us, I say ” 

Captain Stark caught Albert by the arm and nearly 
sunk his nails through his clothing. 

“Who sent you thither?” he hissed. “Did not 
your master tell you to join the Tie? Did not Joe 
Galloway send you to the League for a purpose as 
dark as the deepest depths of perdition? Come, boy, 
don’t lie to Willis Stark. Tell him the truth, or, by 
the soul of my murdered brother! your life won’t be 
worth a breath.” 

White faced, Albert struggled in the captain’s grip 
and looked imploringly at Priscilla. 

“The truth! the truth!” cried Stark. “A lie will 
not do. It will only doom you. You are here to 
betray, and Joe Galloway has sent you. Look! 
Mistress Priscilla. The wretch has condemned him- 
self.” 

It seemed true, for Albert had fainted in the grip 
of the man from Valley Forge. 


CHAPTER XII 


MASTER AND SLAVE 

Captain Stark, of the Legion, held Albert at arm’s 
length and looked down into the white face. 

‘‘Bring him round and make him confess,” cried 
Frank, and then he caught Priscilla’s eye, in which 
there was a plea for mercy. 

“I cannot believe that he is false,” said the fair 
rebel. “He took the oath so readily and promised to 
remain true to the Tie.” 

“That settles nothing,” calmly replied the rebel 
officer. “We cannot tell whom to trust these days. 
If this boy is in the employ of Joe Galloway he must 
be more than watched.” 

By this time Albert was coming out of his faint, and 
when he caught sight of Priscilla he held out his hands. 

“Do you believe me guilty?” he asked. 

“It is for you to say.” 

The youth for a moment hid his face in his hands 
and shuddered. 

“Tell the truth, boy,” sternly said Benjamin. “We 
will like you all the better for that.” 


122 


Master and Slave 


123 


“He sent me, but I came under protest,’’ murmured 
Albert. 

“Yet you came with the heart of a traitor in your 
bosom.” 

The youth looked again at Priscilla and turned his 
head away. 

“Joe Galloway saved my life once,” said he, “and 
I have been his slave ever since. I must do his bidding, 
and he sent me on the fatal mission.” 

“You joined the Liberty Tie at the command of 
that monster, did you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And^you intend to carry out the instructions of 
your master despite your oath?” 

“He sent me,” repeated the boy. “I had to come 
when he commanded. You do not know this man. ” 

“I know him!” cried Captain Stark. “I know all 
about this reptile, and I promise you that some day 
his life will go out at the hand of vengeance.” 

“What think you now. Master Albert?” asked 
Priscilla. “Do you still intend to betray the League 
to your master?” 

“Dear lady, I would not betray you for the world. 
I would not turn you over to the king’s men for all 
this earth. You are fair and loyal to freedom, and 
deep in Albert’s bosom beats a love for liberty. I 
worship you. Mistress Beverley, but he sent me, and I 


124 


Master and Slave 


had to come when I would rather be in my grave than 
upon this awful mission/’ 

Captain Stark looked at Frank and Benjamin and 
smiled. 

Priscilla turned away and shuddered. 

According to the oath of the Liberty Tie there was 
but death for the traitor. 

She knew that they could not break the laws of the 
order, and to make an exception in Albert’s case 
would only impair, if not destroy, the influence of the 
Tie itself. 

“Take me and slay!” cried Albert, as he broke from 
Captain Stark’s grasp and straightened in the middle 
of the room. “I have broken the laws of the League. 
I am its first traitor. I came into the order to betray 
it, first to my master Joe Galloway, and then to the 
king’s generals. I belong to Joe. While I would 
rather die than betray you all, I had to obey this man.” 

Into Captain Stark’s eyes came a look of pity. 

“This is a case in which justice should be tempered 
with mercy,” said he. “The boy is under the hand 
of this inhuman monster. Left to himself he would 
not for the moment think of betraying us. But he 
is a traitor. all the same, and his act does not lessen 
the treason.” 

Albert was silent. 

“What will you do if we let you go?” asked Priscilla. 


Master and Slave 


125 


“I cannot say.” 

“Will you go back to your master and report?” 

“I will die first, lady.” 

“You will not betray us, then?” 

“What! betray you, fair one, into the hands of your 
foes? Never! I may be black of heart otherwise, but 
there I would stop, and all the king’s men could not 
draw from my heart anything against you.” 

“But the Liberty Tie? Will you betray that?” 

“You are a part of it,” responded Albert. “And 
when I think of it I think of you.” 

Captain Lowry advanced and laid his hand on the 
youth’s arm. 

“I understand you,” said he. “ You will not betray 
the League because Mistress Beverley belongs to it.” 

“I will not.” 

“But Joe Galloway will pimish you.” 

The boys eyes flashed. 

“Let him try!” he exclaimed, drawing off. “Let 
him try it, I say. I am not defenceless.” 

“But remember that he belongs to me!” shouted 
Captain Stark. “You have no right to interfere.” 

“To you? Who are you, sir?” 

“Never mind. You may call me Captain Nemesis.” 

“And you say Joe belongs to you?” 

“As surely as General Clinton’s sword belongs to the 
king.” 


126 


Master and Slave 


^‘Then I will let you have Joe. You can do with 
him what you please, but you must not strike too late.’’ 

imderstand,” replied Stark, with a nod of the 
head. “I will not strike too late. Rest assured of 
that.” 

Priscilla led Albert from the room and closed the 
door behind them. 

^‘You are free,” she said. 

The handsome youth drew back and looked up 
into her face. 

“Free!” he cried. “You forgive me, then?” 

“I forgive you. You will not suffer the penalty 
attached to treason.” 

“But I would not — I could not — have betrayed 
you, fair one. I could not have turned you over to 
the tender mercies of my master. If you will listen 
to me a moment ” 

“Let your speech remain unspoken,” interrupted 
Priscilla, who divined what was about to follow, and 
she did not want to listen to a declaration of love from 
the lips of Albert. 

“Just a moment, please, fair lady ” 

“No !” sternly put in Priscilla. “You must go now. 
The door of freedom lies before you. You have this 
night escaped with your life, for you forfeited it the 
moment you entered the Liberty Tie# with your in- 
tentions.” 


Master and Slave 


127 


‘‘But not for the world would I have betrayed you/’ 

“I am part of the League. Treason to a part of it 
means treason to all. There can be no dividing line. 
Go!” 

Albert covered his face with his hands, and trembled 
in Priscilla’s presence. 

The fair girl opened a door and took him by the 
arm. 

“Go!” she repeated. “ Come not back or you may 
pay the penalty. We part forever.” 

“Say not forever!” cried the boy. 

“It can be nothing less than forever. You have 
come among us to betray, and we can brook no traitors 
in the Tie.” 

She pushed him gently forward, and the last thing 
she saw was his white imploring face as she shut the 
door against it. 

“ Is he gone?” asked Captain Stark, as Priscilla came 
back. 

“We are rid of him.” 

“He will keep his word with you. He will not be- 
tray the Tie to his master because you are a part of it. 
You know why. Mistress Beverley.” 

Priscilla blushed, for she knew. 

“Now,” said Captain Lowry, “we must look out for 
the king’s drag-net. It will be thrown out again, and 
every effort to catch us all will be made.” 


128 


Master and Slave 


“But they will not succeed/’ was Captain Stark’s 
reply. “Sir Henry trusts Joe Galloway because he 
has served him well in the past. He will entrust him 
with the suppression of the League.” 

“And Albert? What will he do when he again 
meets Joe?” 

“That lies between master and slave,” said Stark. 
“The boy will have his word tried when he meets his 
master.” 

That was true. 

Already Albert, in a maze of thought, was making 
his way through the streets of the city. 

In a short time he climbed the stairs leading to Joe 
Galloway’s rooms. 

There was a look of defiance in his deep-set eyes, and 
when he opened the door and glanced into the apart- 
ment he felt his heart beat faster. 

Joe Galloway, the spy catcher of Philadelphia, sat 
at a table with the usual bottle and goblet before 
him. 

He was still thinking of his tiff with Colonel Simcoe 
in Clinton’s quarters. 

His face was flushed with anger and wine combined, 
and as Albert entered he uttered a cry of satisfaction. 

“ Odds fish !” he cried. “ The very mortal I want to 
see! Sit down. No, stand up, and have a glass with 


Master and Slave 


129 


Albert waved a negative and came toward the table. 

“Well,” proceeded Joe, “you found them out, did 
you? You really joined the order.” 

The boy’s lips moved, but no words seemed to 
cross them. 

“Why don’t you speak?” roared Joe. “Are you 
suddenly struck dumb in my presence? You found 
them out, eh?” 

“I obeyed your command.” 

“ Of course you did. There was nothing else for you 
to do.” 

“I joined the League.” 

“Don’t chew that over. Give me the particulars.” 

“I haven’t got any.” 

“What?” 

Joe fell back in his chair, blanched to whiteness by 
the boy’s sudden stubbornness. 

“You made out a list of the members?” 

“I have nothing of the kind.” 

“Where does the League meet now, since they 
burned their other den?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Galloway looked for a moment longer at his prot6g^ 
and then staggered to his feet. 

“By my life! you shall tell me the truth and the 
whole truth,” he exclaimed. “I am here to listen to 
nothing else. I sent you on a mission and you refuse 


130 


Master and Slave 


to report. Has that pretty rebel turned you against 
me?^’ 

Albert was silent. 

warned you to beware of her fascinations. I 
told you that her eyes would ensnare you if you didn’t 
watch. I suppose you forgot duty in her presence.” 

forgot nothing, but you entrusted me with a 
mission that is against the finer impulses of my soul.” 

‘‘Where did you get a soul?” cried the monster, with 
a laugh. “I did not know you ever possessed such a 
thing as a soul. Come, you must throw your im- 
pulses to the wind and tell me all. I am listening. 
Master Albert.” 

“My life is in your hands. You can punish as you 
see fit, but I cannot betray my friends.” 

“Not even for the king?” 

“Not for royal George!” 

“By heavens! this is the height of insolence. 
Don’t you know, boy, that you belong to me? I am 
your master. I found you a waif and took you in.” 

“You have told me that a thousand times. I 
have had it dinged into my ears for years. I am your 
slave. I know that, and you are my master. But the 
slave refuses this time to serve the master. That’s 
all.” 

The red face of the solitary listener grew deathly 
white. 


Master and Slave 


131 


^^You stand by that, do you?’’ 

‘‘God helping me, I cannot do otherwise.” 

“Very well.” 

Joe Galloway opened a drawer in the table, and 
took thereform a pistol, which he cocked and placed 
before him. 

“I must punish,” said he, looking up into the face 
of Albert. “I am master and executioner both in one. 
Boy, unless you tell me all within the next five minutes 
I will snuff out the candle of your life forever. No 
person proves a traitor to Joe Galloway and lives.” 

Albert calmly folded his arms and looked into the 
bloated face at the table. 

He saw no mercy in the eyes that burned like dia- 
monds over the puffed cheeks of his old master. 

Joe pulled from his embroidered waistcoat a heavy 
silver watch and laid it beside the weapon. 

“Four minutes yet,” he replied, with a grunt. 

There was no change in Albert’s face, nor did he re- 
move his eyes from the speaker. 

In the silence that filled the room one could have 
heard the beating of his heart. 

At last Joe’s hand closed round the butt of the 
pistol. 

The boy’s lips came firmly together and his hands 
clenched. 

“Time’s up!” said Joe. 


132 


Master and Slave 


The weapon left the table clutched in the merciless 
brown hand of its owner and his beady eyes glistened 
anew. 

‘‘Are you ready, little traitor?’^ asked Joe. 

“As ready now as ever!’’ 

The spy catcher pushed his chair from the table and 
straightened in front of it. 

The cocked pistol was halfway up, and his eyes 
were fastened upon his victim. 

“So perish all traitors!” parted his lips. “This is 
the end of life for one of them, and thus we serve all 
who will not serve the king.” 

With undaunted eye Albert looked over the deadly 
barrel into the face behind it. 

He felt that his last moment had come. 

He waited for the death shot as calmly as he might 
have waited for a coming joy. 

But all at once a shot rang out, the pistol fell from 
Joe Galloway’s hand, a shivered window told another 
tale, and as the spy catcher staggered back Albert 
turned and saw a face at the pane. 

He uttered a cry and bounded from the room. 

The candle flickered in the air that had come into 
the room, and as the boy shut the door Joe Galloway 
got upon his feet with a stain of red on his left temple. 


CHAPTER XIII 


TOM MEETS AN ACQUAINTANCE IN GREEN 

Master Tom Hapgood, after his escape from the 
British in Obed Poole’s fullery, found himself in a 
predicament not very pleasant. 

He knew that he would be hunted, since he was 
suspected of being a rebel spy, therefore he made 
himself as scarce as possible. 

It was not his intention, however, to quit the city 
as long as Frank and Benjamin remained in the camp 
of the enemy, for he was aware that they might need 
his assistance again. The British would not give 
over the hunt so long as the young captains were sus- 
pected of being in the city, and Sir Henry Clinton, 
who was so anxious to recapture them, would not 
abate one jot of his vigilance. 

Tom, when he had taken his cloth to a safe place, 
^‘a little nest,” as he called it, in a secluded house, 
turned again into the darkened thoroughfares of 
Philadelphia. 

He did not think of going back to the fullery where 
he might be waited for, but turned his footsteps in 
133 


134 Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 


another direction and paused at last in a drinking 
house, where he concluded to warm himself while 
he ate a snack. 

He was about to give his order when he heard a 
loud outcry at the door, and half a dozen British sol- 
diers came lumbering in. 

‘‘The Queen’s Rangers,” said Tom to himself. 
“Thank fortune, they are not led by Colonel Simcoe, 
for I would be of a mind to tell him how he plundered 
the people of Long Island. What a rascal he is, and 
the men he commands are no better.” 

The men came forward and took seats not far from 
the boy patriot. 

Tom watched them narrowly. 

“If I’m not mistaken, there is Sam Porter, one of 
our neighbors before the war,” he exclaimed. “How 
well he looks in that green uniform. A pretty man he 
is to fight for the king while his other relatives are 
with Washington. I say, Sam, you ought to grace 
one of the trees in front of your old island home.” 

The man whom Tom watched while he spoke to 
himself was a tall, narrow-faced fellow, whose uniform 
did not sit well on his bones, but he looked about as 
well as his comrades in the king’s scarlet. 

The men were boisterous, and Tom laughed when 
he saw them spill half their wine over their clothes 
in an effort to drink all at once. 


Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 135 


Suddenly Sam Porter seemed to single out the 
youth. 

He leaned forward as though a sudden light had 
broken in upon his mind. 

Tom stood the scrutiny well. 

Sam knows me there’s no use in quailing,” he 
thought to himself. 'T’ll set him out if he wants it 
that way and ” 

The man mentioned left the table and came over 
to where Tom sat. 

The Long Island boy did not move. 

Leaning on the table Sam bent toward him and said: 

‘‘How’s all the folks at home?” 

Tom’s heart went into his throat in a moment and 
he fell back a little, for he knew that he had been 
recognized. 

“I haven’t heard from home for a month, Sam,” he 
said, coolly. “I haven’t been back to the island since 
the battle.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Just looking round.” 

“You’re with Washington, eh?” 

Tom started a little. Why lie to this man? He 
thought rapidly, and concluded to tell the truth and 
face the Ranger, trusting to his coolness and to luck. 

“Yes,” said Tom, “I’m with Washington — ^but 
not just now.” 


136 Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 


“So I see. You’re here playing spy, aren’t you? 
It’s bad business. You know how they treated 
Hale ” 

“But I’m no spy. I came down here on another 
piece of business. I haven’t played spy for some 
time.” 

“Well, it’s dangerous work. Don’t try it, boy. 
They’ve got no mercy on spies in this camp. Gallo- 
way, the spy catcher, is at work all the time.” 

“I’ve heard of him, Sam. But you look well in 
green.” 

Master Porter grinned. 

“Think so?” he laughed. “I thought I wouldn’t, 
but the boys say the uniform becomes me. I say, 
Tom, wouldn’t you like to change sides and put on 
red for a time?” 

“Thank you Sam, not I.” 

“Oh, you’re not tired of the rebels, then?” 

“They suit me very well.” 

“I’m in this for the pay, that’s all,” was the reply. 
“Hang the king! He wouldn’t let us kiss his royal 
foot. We have a good deal of fun, plenty to eat and 
drink, and the pay comes as regular as clockwork. 
Yours don’t come that easy, I suspect.” 

“We get no pay at all. We have a hard time, but 
in the end it will be all right.” 

“ I don’t know but that it will. There is a good deal 


Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 137 


of dissatisfaction in the British army just now. The 
officers have the best time, and some of the poor 
privates are freezing on guard underneath the very 
windows where the generals feast and give their wine 
parties to the damsels of Philadelphia. No pay, 
eh? By the way, Tom, take a little of the king’s 
money.” 

As Sam finished he slipped a guinea toward Tom, 
and at sight of the coin the boy’s eyes gleamed and he 
raked the piece into his pocket. 

‘‘So you don’t want to join us?” he asked Tom. 

“No. I’m satisfied where I am.” 

“Well, I am, too, so long as the pay holds out and 
the clothes don’t get bullet-bored. We’ve had a 
time to-night.” 

“You?” 

“Yes, we tried to hang an old rebel, had the rope 
round his neck, when some one shot him free.” 

“Shot him free, you say?” 

“Yes. The shots seemed to come from a house 
across the street, and one of our men fell dead and 
the other got off with a ball through his thigh. We 
didn’t dare report the matter, for the old rebel had 
never been tried save by a drum-head court martial. 
He got clear off, I guess, though we sent a few bullets 
after him.” 

“Who shot him free?” asked Tom. 


138 Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 


‘T don’t know. We didn’t stop to inquire, but left 
the scene as soon as we could get away. It was a 
pretty close call for yours truly, Master Tom, and I 
don’t care to have the episode repeated.” 

should think not,” smiled the young Long 
Islander. “What sort of fighting have you done since 
you enlisted in the Rangers?” 

“Fighting?” laughed Sam. “We didn’t enlist for 
that, at least I didn’t. We try to keep as far from the 
rebels as possible, for they have a knack of picking 
off the Rangers whenever they get a chance. They 
have a grudge against us.” 

“Do you wonder at it?” 

“Not much. You see the rebels don’t like us very 
well, because, being Americans, we have taken ser- 
vice for the king.” 

“Was that right, Sam?” 

“We’ll not argue the matter. But I must rejoin 
my comrades. Be careful, boy. If Joe Galloway gets 
hold of you he will know why you are in the city or 
hang you to the first and handiest tree. I wouldn’t 
give you away for a thousand. We’re old friends, you 
know, though we don’t wear the same uniform. I’m 
in it, I say, for the pay and the perquisites, and if we 
lick the rebels well and good, and if they lick us, why. 
I’ll throw up my hat for Washington at the first 
opportunity.” 


Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 139 


So saying, Master Porter slipped back to the other 
table and rejoined his comrades. 

Tom began on the supper he had ordered and ate 
as fast as possible. 

The cooking was none of the best and the price was 
high, and when he paid for his meal by handing the 
waiter a guinea, the one he had just received from Sam, 
he heard an exclamation of surprise from the man. 

^‘How do all you people get hold of the king’s 
guineas?” asked the waiter. 

‘‘They’re in circulation, aren’t they?” 

“Yes, but you have them all the time. You must 
have a mint somewhere in the city.” 

“If you don’t like them,” said Tom, feeling in his 
pocket, “I can pay you in Continental scrip.” 

“In that stuff? It’s not worth the paper it is 
printed on. Why, it would take a cartload of it to 
pay for what you ate here. We don’t want Continen- 
tal rags at this estabhshment.” 

The man took the shining guinea and disappeared. 

In a little while he came back and gave Tom the 
change. 

The young Long Islander pushed back his chair 
with a glance toward Sam Porter, who nodded 
pleasantly. 

Tom pushed toward the door, when he was stopped 
by a hand thrust past the edge of one of the tables. 


140 Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 


‘^Here, you fellow,” said a voice. ‘T want to look 
into your face.” 

Tom stopped and looked at the speaker, a British 
soldier with a large face and rough voice. 

“Turn round here in the light,” the man continued. 
“ I think I’ve seen you before. I’m Jack Monroe, and 
the other night I was standing guard over the two 
young captains who escaped, and if I’m not mistaken 
you’re the fellow who hired the upper room of the 
warehouse on a specious pretense and ” 

“What are you stopping this boy for?” sang out a 
voice at the soldier’s ear. 

Tom knew without looking roimd that it was the 
voice of Sam Porter. 

“ I want to take a look at him, that’s all,” was the 
reply. 

“I’ll vouch for him,” said Sam. 

“You will, eh? Well, it may take more than 
yourself to clear his skirts if he’s the fellow I think 
he is.” 

“Whom do you think he is?” 

“A chap who helped to set the young rebel captains 
free from the warehouse prison.” 

“He’s done nothing of the kind. Why, I’ve known 
this boy from his childhood, and a better set of Tories 
never breathed the air than his family. Set rebels 
free? Not much! I’m Sam Porter, of the Queen’s 


Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 141 


Rangers, and 111 stand between this boy and danger. 
Go on out, sir,” he said to Tom. ‘‘It’s all right.” 

Jack Monroe growled out something which indi- 
cated that he was not yet satisfied, but Tom was al- 
ready making strides toward the door and Sam Porter 
was watching him like a protector. 

“It’s funny,” growled Jack. “It’s the same face I 
saw at the window, and — I don’t trust these Rangers 
too far. They’re nothing but Tories. I’ll let it go 
for this time, but the next sight I get of that boy I’ll 
hold him.” 

It was too late now. 

The chance of a lifetime had slipped through his 
fingers, for Tom Hapgood was again breathing the 
winter air outside the building and Jack could go back 
to his bottle. 

“I call that a pretty narrow escape,” said the youth 
to himself when he was half a square from the scene 
of his adventure. “But for Master Porter I might 
have landed in the king’s prison. I’ll not forget you, 
Sam, and if the day ever comes when I can return the 
favor received to-night I’ll return it with interest.” 

Tom now hastened away, and soon afterward turned 
up in the room he had lately left. 

“Some one’s been here,” he said, the moment he 
closed the door. “I see the bed has been crumpled, 
and, by my life ! they’ve inspected my bundle of cloth.” 


142 Tom Meets an Acquaintance in Green 


He palled the bimdle from beneath the mattress 
and opened it. 

In the middle of it he foimd a bit of paper and upon 
it he read; 

“Joe Galloway is on your trail. He knows that you 
roost here. Be on your guard. A Friend.” 

Tom read this twice, and a smile gathered at the 
corners of his mouth. 

“I guess I am able to steer clear of General Clinton’s 
spy catcher,” he said. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE PASSPORT 

The morning after the events detailed in the last 
chapter a group of men might have been seen standing 
around a poster that adorned the wall of a comer 
building in the heart of the Quaker City. 

The bill was a large one, though not very artistically 
printed, and the flaming headlines were what had 
attracted the crowd. 

One of the foremost men was reading aloud to his 
companions as follows: 

One Hundred Pounds Reward ! 

Rebels at Large in Philadelphia. 

Proclamation by General Lord Howe. 

Whereas, two rebel captains, who have been 
prisoners of war, have effected their escape through 
the machinations of friends, are supposed to be at 
large in this city, the general in command of His 
Majesty^s army does hereby offer a reward of One 
Hundred Pounds, in good and lawful money of the 
143 


144 


The Passport 


king^s realm, for the apprehension of the aforesaid 
ofl&cers, whose names are Frank Lowry and Benjamin 
Pierce. These escaped prisoners belong to General 
Wayne’s Legion, and their description is as follows:” 

Here followed a minute description of the young 
provincials, and as a word picture of our friends it 
was striking. Nothing was left unsaid, and at the 
foot of the proclamation was the name of General 
Howe in large type. 

The crowd heard the reading of the ^‘reward” in 
silence, and when it had been completed several 
made remarks in low tones, while others boldly 
said that they hoped the king had lost his captives 
forever. 

The temper of the crowd showed that it was largely 
composed of Whigs, and some one suggested that they 
tear the poster down, but this was promptly vetoed 
by cooler heads. 

These posters were posted all over the city and 
hundreds read them, some in silence and others with 
sarcastic comments, according to the temper of the 
readers. 

It was expected that the reward would stimulate 
search for the two captains, and, indeed, it did, for, 
urged by the splendid offer, men started out in search 
of the fugitives, and more than one suspected place 
was watched. 


The Passport 


145 


But night came without the boys being found. 

It was one of those wild nights which during the 
occupation of Philadelphia by the British was long 
to be remembered. 

More snow fell, as if enough had not come down, and 
the wind howled a gale along the icy Delaware. 

In a large house standing in the center of the city 
there was a sound of gaiety, and the red coats of 
British officers might have been seen in the spacious 
rooms. 

One Cyrus Blake, a man supposed to be a friend of 
the king, had given a party in honor of General Howe, 
who was soon expected to turn his command over to 
Clinton, for ' he did not like the censure the home 
government had placed upon some of his acts, and 
it was no secret that before spring the army would 
fall into the hands of the new commander. 

General Howe was popular, for he was a man who 
loved pleasure, and where he was it was said that wit 
and wine flowed freely. 

Master Blake was only half Tory. 

He had a habit of blowing hot and cold as circum- 
stances dictated, and, as he was very wealthy, he 
had escaped any arrest and search, while some of his 
neighbors had been subjected to both. 

In the largest room of the elegant mansion lights 
blazed over the heavy carpets and shone upon the 


146 


The Passport 


adornments which had cost their owner an immense 
sum of money. 

He had no children, but a handsome adopted 
daughter was the angel of the house, and Louise Blake, 
as she was called, had been much sought after by the 
beaux of the British army. 

The dazzling event was at its height when there came 
into the room, leaning on the arm of General Clinton, 
a young girl whose face at once attracted all. 

General Howe, who was present, stopped talking to 
a lady and turned upon the couple. 

He looked first at Clinton, and then feasted his 
eyes upon the lady at his side. 

Noticing this, Clinton advanced to his brother officer 
and presented Mistress Beverley to him. 

A slight start came over General Howe, but he 
instantly recovered and bowed graciously. 

Priscilla curtsied in return, a blush suffusing her 
cheeks, and, raising her eyes to General Howe, she 
said: 

am glad to meet you. General Howe. One who 
commands an army is always an object of veneration 
to me.” 

“Thanks, my young lady, and I assure you that 
Mars is always ready to bow at the shrine of Venus.” 

To this Priscilla made a reply that brought a little 
laugh to Howe’s lips, and Clinton passed on with her. 


The Passport 


147 


But watching Priscilla, who seemed to be taking up 
the gaze of all just then, was a lady of large features 
and turned fifty. 

She had a sour cast of features, showing that she 
was deeply envious, and her gaze did not desert the 
fair girl who had been invited to the party as Mistress 
Blake’s friend. 

“What think you. General Howe?” said this lady, 
meeting the British general a moment later. “Do 
you not think it the height of temerity for the lady 
whom General Clinton escorts to show her face in this 
assemblage?” 

“I cannot say. Mistress Green. Mistress Beverley 
is a beautiful girl, and ” 

“That is not it, general. She is not with us in this 
war.” 

“Many are not. We must not expect all to be of 
one opinion.” 

“That is true. But this Mistress Beverley is re- 
ported as being a spy in our midst.” 

“So fair a creature a spy?” exclaimed Howe. “It 
is past my comprehension. We are loath to believe 
that the ladies are so bitterly against us.” 

“It must be true as to the principles of Mistress 
Beverley. She is reputed to have come from Boston, 
and you know that is a nest of rebels.” 

“Boston is, indeed, almost unanimously against the 


148 


The Passport 


king, but we hope to convert its people in the near 
future.” 

Mistress Green bit her lip and looked away for a 
moment. 

^^You might as well try to dam the ocean with a 
feather,” she exclaimed. “These Yankees are past 
conversion, and truth to tell. General Howe, they will 
never come under royal rule again unless a few score 
of them are hanged.” 

Howe looked serious. 

“By the way. Mistress Green, upon what are your 
charges based as to Mistress Beverley being a spy?” 

“I have heard it so frequently that there must be 
something in it.” 

“Heresay evidence, as a rule, is not admitted in 
court.” 

“I know that, sir,” tartly replied the large lady. 
“"And because it is not a good many rebel spies go 
unhung.” 

“Mistress Green, I wish you would find out for 
me,” said General Howe. “If this young lady is such 
a menace to success on our part, you will confer a 
favor by proving your charge.” 

“I do not care to have my name mixed up in an 
affair of this kind, I ” 

“Not in the interests of our cause?” 

“Of course I am for the king, as General Howe 


The Passport 


149 


very well knows; but a lady of my standing does not 
want to be mixed up in questionable matters. I am 
sure that I have not been misinformed, though.” 

“Then present your proof,” sharply said Howe. 
“We cannot condemn on mere heresay evidence.” 

“But if the culprit were a man he would be arrested 
at once and haled to prison.” 

At this General Howe winced and looked away. 

Meanwhile Priscilla had been led to the refreshment 
table by General Clinton, where she was being regaled 
with some of the dainties of the evening. 

Wine was hberally dispensed by the host, for his 
cellars were noted for their choice vintage, and she 
was sipping a glass of Tokay when General Clinton 
turned to her and said: 

“By the way. Mistress Beverley, we have not yet 
succeeded in recapturing those young compatriots of 
yours.” 

Priscilla looked archly up and smiled. 

“To whom do you refer. General Clinton?” she 
asked, naively. 

“To the young provincial captains who escaped from 
us a few nights ago.” 

“I believe I have heard of that event, as it is a sub- 
ject of gossip just now.” 

“We have caused to be issued a proclamation of 
reward. One hundred pounds are offered for the 


150 


The Passport 


recapture of the captains. Now, my dear Mistress 
Beverley, if you want to do the king a service you can 
have the opportunity. Bring the young rebels to 
headquarters and you will be made the happy recip- 
ient of the hundred pounds.’^ 

‘‘Why do you not refer the matter to Master Gallo- 
way? I understand that he has become quite famous 
as a man catcher.” 

“In this instance Joseph seems to have failed,” 
laughed Clinton. 

“Ohl he has attempted to apprehend the captives?” 

“And for once has failed.” 

“Why has he failed, General Clinton? Can two 
rebels hide in Philadelphia, which is in the full posses- 
sion of the king’s forces, and escape?” 

“I am loath to confess that they can, but it seems 
so.” 

“And then, there are all your Tory friends. It 
seems to me that the hundred pounds will stimulate 
some pretended friends of the two rebel captains to 
turn them over to the authorities.” 

“We have hoped so, and that was one reason for 
spreading the reward. Now, Mistress Beverley, I 
have heard that your sympathies are not altogether 
with us ” 

“One hears a good many things nowadays. General 
Clinton.” 


The Passport 


151 


‘‘That is true, and much that one hears is not true. 
You know you are from Boston, and that in the eyes 
of some people is enough to condemn you as the enemy 
of the king.’’ 

“Just as if nothing good can come out of Naza- 
reth,” laughed Priscilla, and General Clinton joined 
her. 

“But, General Clinton,” she pursued, a moment 
later, “you will not object if I say that at heart I am 
not in full S3nnpathy with the king in this war. I 
may as well confess the truth, for I dislike duplicity 
in anything; but you surely do not think that a young 
girl can injure the cause that is upheld by thousands 
of bayonets and commanded by such a wise general as 
Sir Henry Clinton.” 

“You do me great honor,” cried Clinton, as he 
took Priscilla’s hand and raised it to his lips. “I try 
to do my duty to my king and as a soldier, I can do 
no more. So you are to be classed among our ene- 
mies?” 

“I leave that to you, sir,” archly returned Priscilla. 
“I am not a loyalist, but we girls cannot injure the 
cause of your royal master. One would think, to 
listen to the talk of others,” — here she glanced toward 
the spot where Mistress Green was pouring out her 
suspicions to General Howe, — “I have been talked 
about a good deal since coming back to the city. You 


152 


The Passport 


remember I was here just before the battle of German- 
town ” 

“And in the Chew House during the fight, I be- 
lieve?’^ 

“Yes. I was one of the tenants of the old house 
where so much blood flowed. Since coming back to 
the city, as I was saying, I have been subjected to much 
suspicion. Would General Clinton deign to give me 
a letter saying that I am not to be molested? I may 
want to quit the city on a visit to friends on the out- 
side, and a passport through the king’s lines would be 
a favor which I would highly appreciate.” 

“I cannot refuse beauty anything when so graciously 
asked for,” smiled the British general. “You shall 
have it at once.” 

He drew his order book from his pocket and began 
to write on one of its leaves. 

Priscilla pretended not to be interested, though at 
the same time her heart beat a little faster in her 
bosom, and in a moment she had the following pass- 
port placed in her hands: 

“To commandants of picket lines surrounding the 
city of Philadelphia: 

Pass the bearer. Mistress Priscilla Beverley, through 
the lines at all hours and in either direction. 


By order of General Henry Clinton.” 


The Passport 


153 


‘‘Here it is,” said the officer, as he placed the pass- 
port in the young girl’s hands. “You can now come 
and go whenever you elect, and if you want to carry 
news to the rebel Washington I don’t see what is ta 
prevent unless some of our men catch you,” and 
Clinton laughed lightly, while Priscilla flushed. 

A few moments later she was escorted from the 
table and they made the circuit of the room beyond. 

“Rebel!” hissed Mistress Green, who had lost sight 
of Priscilla during her absence. “She has completely 
enmeshed General Clinton, and, my life for it, that 
she has extracted some favor from him!” 

But she did not dream that Mistress Priscilla had 
gained the very point she had schemed for — the 
securing of a passport through the British lines. 
This was something far beyond the suspicions of 
Mistress Green, the most notorious female Tory in 
the Quaker City. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE PEST AND THE PIT 

The two young captains had a hearty laugh when 
they had spread before them one of the posters that 
offered a large reward for them. 

‘‘It seems that we have suddenly become of value 
to the king/’ said Frank. “We are somebody at last, 
and not two ‘ragamuffins of liberty.’ General Howe 
expects to bring out all the man-hunters in the city 
for our capture, and the reward will certainly lure 
some of them to look for us.” 

“You may be sure of that, boys,” said Tom Hap- 
good, who had brought them the poster. “General 
Howe is determined to have you back in prison, and 
he will draft more than Joe Galloway into his service. 
Joe at present is nursing his rage, I am told, for it has 
leaked out that he had a tiff with Colonel Simcoe, 
whom he was obliged to strike in the face in General 
Clinton’s presence. Clinton rather hkes a fight, and 
especially when he is not in any danger. Joseph, 
therefore, is not in the best of odor since the tiff, and 
may not be the man wanted to hand you two over 
to his general.” 


154 


The Pest and the Pit 


155 


‘^It may be a colder day than this when we are back 
in Howe’s clutches,” smiled Benjamin. ‘^We are 
comfortably situated here, and have no desire to 
break through the lines just yet.” 

“It is well we caught Albert when we did, and 
drew from him the confession that Joe Galloway 
had sent him to the Tie for the purpose of betraying 
it. I fancy that he and Joe will have some words 
when they come together again, but just now we 
should plan for the final outwitting of the British.” 

“We will await Priscilla’s return,” said Frank. 
“She has a little scheme of her own on hand, and to- 
night she is at a party given by Master Blake for the 
entertainment of General Howe.” 

“And we have a few hours of leisure, then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why not go over to old Doub’s and hear the latest 
news? He is the medium through which all news 
from Valley Forge passes, you know. He is but 
three squares below, and ” 

“Come Frank, what do you say?” 

“We promised Priscilla ” 

“But she will not know of it,” persisted Benjamin. 
“We shall be back before midnight, and ” 

“Back in less than an hour,” broke in Tom. “I 
know the way.” 

“Come, then. We’ll take the risk.” 


156 


The Pest and the Pit 


Five minutes later the three young provincials were 
seated in a small, low-ceiled room in the house of 
Amos Doub, a shoemaker, off from Chestnut Street. 
The place was well screened from observation, and no 
one would have dreamed that the humble shop was 
the private headquarters of a lot of ardent patriots. 

The hour passed pleasantly. 

The shoemaker had some news from Valley Forge. 

The boys heard of the destitution that filled the 
camp along the Schuylkill, and their hearts bled anew 
for their comrades. 

Amos told them all he knew — how the little army in 
buff and blue was freezing and starving up country, 
and how many were deserting, pressed by the gaunt 
hands of hunger, while over all hovered the specter 
of decimation. 

Washington, Amos said, was on the edge of despair, 
at which Frank cried out that while he could believe 
many things about Valley Forge, this was the one 
thing he could not believe. 

Washington would never despair of the republic. 

Others might despair. Congress itself might do so, 
but the one great man of the country, the hope of the 
new nation — he would never give up the fight. Flad 
he not said that should they be pressed too far they 
would fall back beyond the Alleghenies and fight it 
out there? 


The Pest and the Pit 


157 


The conference over, the boys started back to the 
retreat. 

Tom lead the way, the others treading in his foot- 
steps. 

Suddenly, in crossing a dark alley almost kneedeep 
in snow, Frank clutched Benjamin’s arm. 

^‘Hist!” he whispered. “Where’s Tom?” 

They looked ahead. Nothing was to be seen of the 
young Long Islander. 

The boys stood silent and breathless for a moment. 

“They’re here somewhere,” said a voice on their 
right. “I saw them enter the place. We’ve got 
them cooped up, and ” 

“Come,” whispered Benjamin. “We are in the 
midst of enemies. This way.” 

They fell back to the point from which they had 
entered the alley and dodged into a half-open door. 

“The house! the old house!” rang out a voice. 
“They’re in the old ‘nest.’ ” 

The boys thought themselves in a trap of their own 
making, and for half a minute stood still, with the 
blackness of darkness around them. 

What was ahead of them they did not know, for 
sight, however keen, availed them nothing. 

They knew that their foes were not far off, and 
Frank thought he heard them already at the door. 

“Forward!” he said to Benjamin. “We cannot 


158 


The Pest and the Pit 


but go forward. To do otherwise is to fall back into 
the king’s net.” 

They started on again, and Frank’s hand touched 
a latch. 

A door!” he said, with a burst of joy. “We have 
a door before us.” 

In the room beyond rested the same pall of darkness. 

The old house was as cold as a bam, and through 
some unseen crevices the night wind fairly whistled. 

Now they could not hear their enemies, but this did 
not fill them with hope. 

They felt that the foe was still near at hand, and 
that to move or speak aloud would but guide him to 
their hiding place. 

For ten minutes they stood close together in the 
darkness, wondering at times what had become of 
Tom, for he had not turned up since losing h im in the 
alley. 

At last they heard a sound. 

“It is right ahead,” said Frank. “Don’t move a 
muscle. We are being searched for in the old shell.” 

In another minute they heard the same noise re- 
peated like the breathing of a man, and then the 
boys hstened with all ears. 

“Who’s there?” asked a voice. 

No reply. 

“I say, who has come into the den?” was the next 


The Pess and the Pit 


159 


sentence that reached their ears. ‘‘I am alone. 
Don’t you know that I am dying here with a con- 
tagious disease? This is a pest-house.” 

The hair of the young captains seemed to rise on 
their heads. 

A pest-house! 

They knew now why they had not been followed into 
the place by the enemy on their trail. 

They could not see one another for the gloom that 
prevailed, but they could think of the horror of the 
situation. 

The old ‘nest’ was given over to the dead as it were, 
for those who inhabited it were already dead to the 
world. 

They felt their blood run cold through their veins. 

“Why don’t you get out of here?” suddenly said 
the same voice. “I am here in the agonies of death, 
and no one durst come nigh me. I am Pallas Drake, 
blacksmith to the Queen’s Dragoons, and they have 
shut me up in this place to die. It is the black plague, 
the surgeon says ” 

Frank could not repress a cry. 

“Aha! I’ve frightened you, have I?” laughed the 
castaway. “Well may you be frightened. But how 
came you here? There seem to be two of you.” 

“Is there no way out of the house?” asked Frank. 

“Yes, but it leads past me and I have the plague.” 


160 


The Pest and the Pit 


“We’ll take that way. Direct us.” 

“Keep to the right and don’t touch the walls. Go 
ahead, say, ten steps, and turn to the left.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Almost straight before you. I am lying on the 
floor, for they have even denied me a dying bed.” 

“The villains!” 

“Oh, I’ve cursed them till my tongue got thick. 
It will soon be over with me; and a wife in England. 
I wish the rebels would win.” 

“We’re coming now,” said Frank. “Get out of 
our path as far as you can.” 

“And mind you, don’t breathe till you’ve passed 
me. There are contagion and death in the air. Now, 
sirs, come on.” 

Frank led the way. 

Should they come in contact with the poor wretch, 
they knew that they would be better off in the British 
prisoir than in that house. 

The walk was continued in silence. 

Ten steps Frank counted and Benjamin did like- 
wise. 

“We’re past you now,” said Lowry. “Now it is 
to the left, you say?” 

“To the left and God shield you!” 

“Good-by.” 

“Good-by.” 


The Pest and the Pit 


161 


Frank moved on, with Benjamin at his heels. 

All at once the latter stopped, for he had ceased to 
hear his companion’s footsteps. 

He put out his hand and felt a cold wall. Then 
he shuddered, as he recalled the stranger’s admonition. 

‘‘Frank!” called Captain Pierce in low tones. 
“What has become of you, Frank?” 

The only answer that came back from the darkness 
was the screeching of the wind. 

Captain Benjamin drew his breath again and re- 
peated the call. 

“Frank! Oh, Frank!” 

The answer was the same as before, the terrible 
silence and the moaning of the wind outside. 

“Why don’t you go on?” asked the man behind him. 
“Would you seal your doom in this place?” 

“No, but I’ve lost my comrade.” 

“And yet you would slay yourself by remaining,” 
was the answer, which sounded ghostlike in the gloom. 
“Go on, for heaven’s sake!” 

Benjamin moved on again. 

He felt a deathlike terror at his heart, for never 
before amid the dangers of battle had he felt fearsome 
as now. 

On, on he moved. 

At last he paused again. 

“Frank! Frank!” he called. 


162 


The Pest and the Pit 


But no answer came to him. 

At last he reached a door which led into the 
night. 

Opening it he found the wind on his face again, and 
that was a relief. 

But where was Frank? 

^‘1 can’t desert him,” thought the young soldier. 
‘^Though a thousand deaths hem me round I will go 
back and find him. The pest shall not deprive me of 
Captain Frank.” 

He resolutely turned back. 

Once more he plunged into the darkness, feeling his 
way, for sight availed him nothing in that Stygian 
place. 

At last he stopped. 

‘^Why not? It will be a look anyhow,” he said to 
himself. “I have the tinder-box.” 

Don’t strike a light here,” sang out the voice of 
the human leper. ‘^You will see me and then you 
will die of fright.” 

^^Pish!” cried Benjamin. care not how I die, 
but I wiU never die of that malady.” 

He leaned against the damp, cold wall and produced 
his tinder-box. 

In another second he saw a tiny spark catch the 
tow, then another and still another leaped up, and 
he looked round. 


The Pest and the Pit 


163 


“Don’t look this way,” cried the same gruesome 
voice. 

“I will not, sir,” and Benjamin deliberately turned 
his face away. “I want to find my friend. He has 
disappeared.” 

“What! vanished? Then may heaven help him. 
He went too far to the left.” 

Benjamin felt the new terror tugging at his heart. 

He went forward with the light in his hand. 

Suddenly he stopped and held the flame for- 
ward. 

What did he see? 

There yawned before him, and but a step away, a 
pit that seemed bottomless in his eyes. 

He leaned over the fringe of it and tried to fathom 
the gloomy depths. 

The light would not descend far. 

“Frank! Frank!” he called again. 

The same answer as before, the cold one of the wind 
and the silence of the nest of blackness. 

Suddenly the tow slipped from the shelf of the tinder- 
box and fluttered down into the abyss like a fiery 
arrow. 

It twisted in and out in its descent, and Benjamin, 
his curiosity getting the better of him, leaned further 
over the edge and followed the falling flame. 

It seemed to descend to the heart of the world below, 


164 


The Pest and the Pit 


for it grew smaller and smaller, and at last went out 
in the cavernous depths. 

^^Gone!’’ cried Captain Benjamin. ‘^It is the last 
of Captain Lowry of the Legion. Liberty never had 
a better soldier nor freedom a truer sword 
And with this, he sadly and slowly retraced his steps. 


CHAPTER XVI 


IN WHICH PRISCILLA HAS CALLERS 

The situation of Benjamin was startling in the 
extreme. 

He moved through the dark place after the extin- 
guishing of his light, and at last struck the open air 
again. 

He believed that he had lost Captain Frank for- 
ever, for he felt that the pit would never give up its 
victim ; still he harbored in his bosom just the faintest 
hope. 

What had become of Tom he did not know, for 
that worthy had vanished early in the adventure, and 
the young captain thought of abandoning the hunt. 

He could make his way back to the place from which 
they had started upon their unlucky foray of the night, 
but when he thought how cheerless it would be without 
Frank his heart failed him. 

For some time he stood in the cold night air, with 
the wind and snow beating on his face and the dread 
of the terror behind him. 

To go back would be to meet again the pest victim 
i6s 


166 In Which Priscilla Has Callers 


in his dread abode, and that almost unnerved him; 
but something had to be done. 

Benjamin could not stand aloof and wait for the 
uncertainties of chance. 

He went back. 

Once more at the fringe of the pit of darkness he 
listened for a sound. 

He knew that the enemy would not look for him 
in the house of the plague, and that he was safe while 
there, but this did not cheer him. 

He must find Frank and Tom. 

For some time he stood there, but at length moved 
on. 

Suddenly a voice came to his ears and thrilled every 
fibre of his being. 

It sounded like Frank’s voice, but it seemed to 
come from far away. 

Benjamin listened with every nerve at tension and 
heard it again. 

“I am here!” he called. 

‘Ht is you, is it, Benjamin?” said the far-off voice, 
am coming.” 

Thank heaven!” 

Then he heard sounds of some one moving through 
the darkness, and waited breathlessly. 

‘‘You, Frank?” he cried. “What happened?” 

“I can hardly tell you. I slipped on a board or 


In Which Priscilla Has Callers 167 


something and scudded away through the gloom. 
But we are together again. Where is Tom?’^ 

‘^Heaven knows. Come, let us get out of this nest 
of pestilence. We must not perish here.’’ 

They started off again, and soon stood without the 
place. 

They saw the stars twinkling in the blue in places, 
for the snow had almost ceased to fall. 

‘‘We must go back without Tom,” said Frank. 
“Let us trust that he is safe.” 

They made their way back to the retreat, and came 
face to face with Priscilla. 

Before either could address her she held out the 
passport she had wormed out of General Clinton. 

“Something was gained to-night,” said the fair 
girl, as her eyes twinkled with delight and triumph. 
“I have here your pass through the British lines ” 

“But it is made out for you only.” 

“True, but we can fix it. Sir Henry may not for- 
give me, but this is for the cause. I had a splendid 
time at the party, but I found my old enemy. Mistress 
Green there, and she did not miss the opportunity 
to disparage me in the eyes of General Howe. But 
where have you been?” 

The young soldiers briefly narrated their adven- 
tures, at which Priscilla looked displeased. 

“You must take no such risks,” she said, reprovingly. 


168 In Which Priscilla Has Callers 


“I will volunteer to keep you posted with news from 
the outside. You must not investigate for yourselves 
as yet.” 

‘^But I chafe under this confinement,” said Frank. 

“You will have plenty to do before you quit Phila- 
delphia. The British are good watch-dogs, and they 
will not let you get away without a chase.” 

“Now if we but knew what has become of 
Tom.” 

The words had hardly left Benjamin’s Hps when foot- 
steps sounded on a stair beyond the room and the door 
opened. 

“Tom!” exclaimed the boys. 

The young Long Islander put his finger to his lips 
and demanded silence. 

“The foe!” he said, in low tones. 

“Where?” asked Priscilla. 

“ Out there,” and Tom nodded to the door. “ Some 
traitor has led them to the house.” 

“Albert!” cried Frank. 

“I think not,” replied the fair rebel. “I am willing 
to trust Albert.” 

“Which is saying more than I can,” was the answer. 
“But if the enemy is out there we must prepare to 
meet him.” 

A short silence followed, and Priscilla, who had gone 
to the door, came back with a smile on her face. 


In Which Priscilla Has Callers 169 


‘‘I am going to admit the party outside,’’ she said. 
^‘Do you go into yonder room.” 

Both Frank and Benjamin would have remonstrated, 
but Priscilla would not listen, and the boys were 
obliged to retire. 

They heard the door open, and then the voices of 
several young women. 

‘‘Women here at this time of night?” exclaimed 
Frank, looking his friend Tom in the face. “I can’t 
account for that.” 

“Perhaps Priscilla can,” was the reply. “ We must 
let her have her way.” 

“Of course, for she is discreet and will do nothing 
not for our good.” 

Meantime Priscilla stood in the presence of four 
young girls who had alighted from a carriage which 
still stood in the street, and she smiled when she saw 
that they were still clad in their ball costumes. 

“Mistress Beverley,” said one of the fair quartette, 
“you will pardon this visit I am sure, but we are mak- 
ing the rounds of the city and could not slight you.” 

“lam glad to see you. Seems to me you are lightly 
clad for the weather.” 

“You have changed your dress, but we have not 
yet had an opportunity. You were fortunate to- 
night in having for your escort such a distinguished 
gentleman as General Clinton.” 


170 In Which Priscilla Has Callers 


“I was honored by his attentions, that is true, for 
he is a gentleman, and ’’ 

“And you felt proud of the honor no doubt?'’ 

“ What young lady would not?" asked Priscilla, with 
some asperity. “Was it to tell me this that you have 
risked your health in such garments on the streets 
to-night?" 

“Partly so. Mistress Beverley. If you will let us 
enter your room a moment for the purpose " 

Priscilla's heart flew at once into her throat, for 
just beyond the door stood the three young rebels 
wanted in every part of the Quaker City. 

Not for her Kfe would she open the door. 

“Pardon me, yoimg ladies," said the Boston girl, 
“the room yonder is quite chilly and you would not 
find any comfort there." 

“But just for a moment," persisted the fair spokes- 
woman of the little party. 

Priscilla's lips came firmly together. 

“Not for a moment, girls," she said. 

“Oh! she keeps her treasures in there," exclaimed 
one of the four. “'Tis no wonder she is so chary of 
showing us the chamber. Come, Mistress Beverley, 
why do you not accede to Mistress Prue's re- 
quest?" 

“Simply because I do not deem it necessary." 

“A poor excuse!" cried the young miss. “Then we 


In Which Priscilla Has Callers 171 


will undertake, in the best of nature, to force the 
door.” 

“You girls?” 

“Indeed we will. It has been said. Mistress 
Beverley, that you are rebel in your sentiments, and 
we want to determine the truth or falsity of the 
rumor.” 

Priscilla knew that her callers belonged to the first 
Tory families of the city, and, therefore, did not pro- 
pose to reveal the presence of the hunted captains to 
them. 

“The door! the door!” exclaimed one of the quar- 
tette. 

“We must see beyond it.” 

“But, young ladies ” 

“We will accept no excuses. This is a test of loy- 
alty to the king, Mistress Beverley. Y ou played your 
game quite *well to-night at the party, but we must see 
what is behind yon door.” 

Priscilla had planted herself against the stout portal, 
and now faced the Tory beauties with the look of one 
determined not to yield a single point. » 

Her bright eyes looked brighter than ever, and in 
their depths shone a light of defiance. 

The others drew off a little and looked madly at 
her. 

“You have heard of the reward offered for the per- 


172 In Which Priscilla Has Callers 


sons of the escaped prisoners/’ said the foremost 
girl. ‘‘It is quite a little heap of gold and we might 
as well win it as some others.” 

“As well as Joe Galloway, for instance,” said 
another. “We must look beyond the door. If 
nothing is in the room, well and good. If you are 
conceahng the enemy you wiU please turn him over to 
us, and let us have the pleasure of raking in a little 
extra pin money.” 

But the defiant Priscilla did not budge. 

“ Come on, girls !” cried the leader of the four. “We 
will have to resort to rough means to accomplish our 
ends.” 

“I would advise you not to try,” said Mistress 
Beverley. 

“A threat, is it?” 

“Not a threat, but the truth.” 

The next moment one of the girls laid her hand 
on Priscilla’s arm, but it was instantly shaken 
off. 

“Do not force me to measures that may disrupt our 
friendship,” she exclaimed. 

“Friendship?” laughed the other. “We want it 
not, if you are the rebel report calls you.” 

The others came on and Priscilla soon found herself 
grasped by several hands, and she was struggling at 
the portal. 


In Which Priscilla Has Callers 173 


Having planted herself firmly there, she fought the 
fair foes off and at last stood free. 

‘Ht is true!’’ shouted one of the girls. ‘‘The enemy 
is beyond that door. We need no other proof. Go 
summon the redcoats and they will break it down 
with their muskets. We have found the rebel captains 
and will claim General Howe’s reward.” 

Priscilla laughed in their faces. 

“Why, bless you, you have been beating against 
an empty room,” she exclaimed. “You have but to 
look in and see.” 

She turned to the door and turned the key in the 
lock. 

The white-faced Tory beauties looked once and 
fell back. 

“ They have escaped 1” they cried. “ You have held 
us back for that purpose.” 

“Think you so?” asked the fair rebel. “Well, if 
that is your opinion you can enjoy it to your heart’s 
content.” 

“You are a vixen 1” screamed one of the disappointed 
girls. “We will report you at once to General Howe.” 

“You have my permission to do so.” 

“You have been all the time since you entered the 
city a spy for the rebels.” 

“Just as you please,” and Priscilla bowed sarcastic- 
ally. “Now, my friends ” 


174 In Which Priscilla Has Callers 


“Foes, you mean!’’ 

“Use your own terms as to yourselves. You will 
oblige me if you will bring this unsolicited visit to an 
end.” 

“Which we will be glad to do, but you will see the 
redcoats here before the hour is gone.” 

They moved toward the door, still looking furi- 
ously at the calm Priscilla, and she opened it for 
them. 

As they gathered up the skirts of their ball costumes 
they gave her glances of rage, and one — Mistress King 
— paused on the step. 

“We cut your acquaintance now and forever!” she 
cried, with flashing eyes. “We would not breathe the 
same air with you. You have rebel blood in your 
veins, and your ragamuffin Washington is but a foot- 
ball for the king. King George will soon have his 
head, and then we shall have the exquisite pleasure of 
seeing you sent into everlasting exile with the tatter- 
demalions of this rebellion.” 

“Thank you. Mistress King,” answered Priscilla. 
“You may turn out a sorry prophetess, for one day 
this same ragamuffin Washington may capture the 
king’s best army.” 

“No fears of that. But good night. Mistress 
Rebel! You haven’t heard the last of this call,” and 
the next moment the door was shut in the faces of the 


In Which Priscilla Has Callers 175 


four, and Priscilla turned away with a laugh on her 
lips. 

She did not wait to see her visitors tumble into the 
carriage, with expressions of rage and contempt for 
her. She had again carried her point. 


CHAPTER XVII 


DECOYED 

Master Joe Galloway, the spy catcher, felt his 
head after the shot through the window which had 
saved the life of Albert, and settled down to some 
good cursings on the head of the person who had 
nearly finished his career. 

The blood flowed freely, but the wound was not 
serious, and after washing it and a brief inspection 
with the gore removed, he bolted from the house. 

Albert was gone, and the spy catcher did not look 
for him. 

He evidently believed that one more important than | 
the boy demanded his attention, and in a short time 
he was in another part of the city. 

“I want an answer to-night,’’ said he to Obed 
Poole, the fuller, whose shop he had invaded after 
beating the old man up. You know that I have my 
heart set on your pretty granddaughter, Mary, and 

jy 

The old fuller held up his hand. 

‘Xome, Joe, don’t say so. You know she is too 

176 


Decoyed 


177 


young for you, and, then, she is not ready for marriage 
yet.” 

‘‘But I am, friend Obed. I’m in the employ of the 
king’s generals, and I draw good pay and pretty often. 
Not in your rascally rebel shin-plasters, but in good 
hard gold that passes anywhere.” 

“I cannot think of giving Mary up yet ” 

“Come! I can’t think of letting you put me off 
from time to time in this manner. Where is she? 
Wake her up and tell her that Joe is here.” 

“Don’t disturb the child.” 

“I must see her. She won’t refuse me, I know, for 
she has said that she was willing to become Mistress 
Galloway at any time.” 

“That is true, but you must remember your per- 
suasive qualities, and ” 

“She is old enough to choose her future lord and 
master, and, as she has chosen me, I want my wife.” 

Old Obed’s face whitened. 

“Don’t let your wife know I’m here,” said Joe, with 
a shudder of aversion. “I can’t argue with that 
woman. Her tongue is loose at both ends, and she 
commands the whole English language. I can’t 
keep up with her and her Billingsgate. She would 
talk the devil blind if she had a chance.” 

The fuller looked toward the stair door, and Joe 
followed him with his glance. 


178 


Decoyed 


‘^Rout the young lady out,” he cried. 

“I haven’t the heart to do that.” 

‘‘You haven’t, eh?” 

“She is asleep, as I’ve told you.” 

“Very well,” cried the spy catcher, as he clutched 
the old man’s arm. “By light of day I’ll have you 
haled before General Howe, and then you can explain 
a few things about selHng cloths to rebels and some 
other disreputables. How would that little episode 
set on your stomach?” 

Obed drew back with a spasm of terror. 

“I can furnish all the evidence that is needed, and 
with you in prison the business would soon go to rack, 
if the king did not take it in his own hands and turn 
your family out of the shop.” 

“Heaven forbid!” fervently cried the fuller. “I 
am an old man and my days are nearly numbered.” 

“The very reason why you should be willing to 
reason matters with your friends. You don’t care 
about going to General Howe as an arrested suspect. 
The old warehouse prison might not be good for your 
limbs, for they do say that it breeds rheumatism 
and such diseases, which would not set very well on 
your constitution.” 

Old Obed shuddered. 

“I can’t remain here all night. Call Mary down.” 

With a curse on his tongue the fuller moved toward 


Decoyed 


179 


the stair door, when it opened and his wife faced the 
Tory. 

Joe drew back with a look of disgust. 

Mistress Poole lowered herself by means of the wall 
and entered the room. 

Her husband gave her a look of admonition, but 
it was lost on her from the first. 

She leaned against the bare wall and looked straight 
into the face of the man before her. 

In one hand she clutched the heavy cane she invari- 
ably carried as a support, while her other hand steadied 
her against the plastering. 

‘‘What is it, sir?’’ 

Her voice was harsh, indicative of a coming storm. 

Joe Galloway threw a hasty glance toward the fuller 
as if asking for help, but the old cloth maker was mer- 
ciless. He evidently knew the capacity of his help- 
mate. 

“Why don’t you answer me?” demanded Mistress 
Poole. “Did I not hear you say just now that you 
wanted to see Mary?” 

“I did say so,” answered Joe, with some hastily 
plucked-up courage. 

“The child is asleep. And did I not hear you 
threaten that if Obed did not do so and so you would 
hale him before General Howe on some charge?” 

“Perhaps I said that, too.” 


180 


Decoyed 


^^Yes. I have ears, though I am not as supple as 
some other people. I know what I hear, and I gen- 
erally hear well. So you want to make our little 
Mary your wife?” 

‘‘She’s consented. Mistress Poole.” 

“Hardly knowing what she did, the child,” cried 
the woman. “You have overcome her with some 
malign influence, for it is not natural that an innocent 
girl like our little Mary would love a big brute like 
you.” 

Joe flinched at the epithet. 

“Come, Mistress Poole, you must have a care what 
you call me,” he said. “I am not here to be called 
names that do not fit me.” 

“Surely you do not want me to dub you a gentle- 
man?” was the reply. “You do not expect me to 
call you an honest man, either. I do not lie. Master 
Galloway, and I will not begin now. You cannot see 
Mary to-night. You must come some other time ; but 
let me tell you, sir, that while I am alive you shall not 
call her your wife. Why, it would be mating hawk 
with dove — a rose with a thistle. Why can’t you 
turn your eyes upon some other women of Phila- 
delphia? Wives are not scarce here. The most 
wretched British soldier can find a sweetheart in this 
place, but you must invade this house and attempt to 
carry off the light God has given us in our old age.” 


Decoyed 


181 


It was the plea of a woman, but it did not go far 
into Joe’s heart. 

have my pick,” said he, “and I have picked 
Mary. She shall not starve. I will always have 
plenty for her.” 

“So will we if you will let us alone. You cannot 
have her.” 

“Then I shall have to see General Howe.” 

In an instant the eyes of Mistress Poole got another 
and a fiercer light. 

Joe evidently saw that he had been a little too 
hasty with his unbridled tongue, for Susan Poole 
lifted her cane till it hovered over his head like the 
sword of Damocles. 

“Out upon you!” she cried, her voice reaching, as 
it seemed, to every corner of the old shop, “You the 
husband of our child? Never! I would sooner fol- 
low her to the grave. I would sooner carry her in her 
innocence to one of the pest houses on the back streets 
and lay her beside a dying victim. You her hus- 
band? God never intended that such a thing should 
come to pass, else he would not have sent us Mary 
for the light and comfort of our old age. Why, sir, 
I would sooner drive the knife to Mary’s heart than 
see her in the arms of you. And what are you?” 

Joe recoiled. He knew what was coming, but there 
was no escape. 


182 


Decoyed 


‘‘What are you? What but a mere hanger on to 
the king’s dirty robe? You do the dirty work for the 
royal generals in Philadelphia. You single out some 
victim and swear away his life as if it were the order- 
ing of a feast. The lowest brute that creeps is your 
superior, for the wild beasts do not betray their kind. 
Spawn of Satan, as you are, and whelped in the black- 
est of the pits of perdition, you should go out and 
hang yourself Kke your ancestor Judas did. You the 
husband of the sweet darling upstairs? Rather she 
should wed the lowest mortal along the city wharves 
than that! Get out! You contaminate the air we 
breathe. You would poison a whole city with the 
pestilential breath of your body, and as for your 
soul, if you have one, it is as black as that of the 
grim ruler of the bottomless pit!” 

“You mustn’t say too much. Mistress Susan Poole.” 

“Why not? Who can stop me?” Obed? He dare 
not!” 

“But there are other powers.” 

“You mean the red-coated scamps you serve? 
They will not.” 

“I can have you haled before General Howe within 
half an hour. I can have you turned out into the 
night and ” 

“In that you would only be repeating your acts. 
We would not be the first ones you have turned out 


Decoyed 


183 


into the streets in midwinter by your lies. And why 
does General Howe trust you, dog? Why does he 
listen to the hireling in his service to whom the poor 
underpaid Hessians are angels of light. But you have 
been marked lately. What made that red gash across 
your temple? Did some one whom you plotted against 
resent your course and seek to send you before the 
bar of God? What a pity he missed his mark. But 
go, Joe Galloway ! The lamb of this fold is not to be 
led to the slaughter. We will slay her first. That is 
all.’’ 

It was enough. 

The white-faced woman dropped the cane and 
looked into the eyes before her. 

Their gleam boded her no good, but the lips did not 
part. 

“ Go !” thundered Susan Poole. Remain here and 

I shall be tempted to strike and spare not.” 

Joe discreetly backed out of the way of the threat- 
ening stick and cast a glance at Obed. 

He had said nothing during the rapid fire from his 
wife. 

The old fuller knew better than to interrupt his 
better half in her speech, and so he had listened to it 
all, complimenting her from the depths of his heart. 

‘H’ll see you again!” hissed Joe at the door. ‘‘Don’t 
think for a moment that I’m harmless.” 


184 


Decoyed 


“The creeping serpent bites in secret/’ was the 
retort. “I know that, but steer clear of this abode. 
The snake may be killed here. And you are the ser- 
pent of the king — the miserable reptile that stings in 
secret and then boasts of it in public.” 

Joe waited to hear no more, but drew back and 
placed a door between him and the maddened woman. 

“I’d sooner face a regiment of rebels,” said he to 
himself, which was not true, for he would never see 
a rebel with arms in his hands if he could help it. “I 
would rather face Washington’s whole army than a 
mad woman. Wait! I’ll fix all things right. If 
they think to keep me out of a wife, they don’t 
know Joe" Galloway.” 

He made his way through the streets and entered 
the room he had lately left. 

It was deserted. 

On the table lay a folded paper which he picked up 
and opened. 

“ Ha 1 This is news,” cried Joe. “ Albert has turned 
again to the good.” 

He read: 

“If you want to find the young rebel captains come 
to No. 243 Race Street as soon as you get this. I will 
let you in. Be cautious. No one else is needed. 


Albert.” 


Decoyed 


185 


Joe’s eyes glistened and he looked twice over the 
note, which he knew was in Albert’s handwriting. 

‘‘The boy has studied the matter over and knows 
that it is best to serve me,” he said, half aloud to him- 
self. “He knows, too, on which side his bread is 
buttered. Why didn’t he wait for me? Perhaps the 
exigencies of the case did not permit his tarrying here. 
I’ll go, but first I’ll leave a note behind.” 

He sat down and wrote a few lines on a bit of paper, 
which he placed under a book on the table, then, look- 
ing to the priming of the two pistols he carried, he 
opened the door and vanished. 

“It’s not the hundred pounds that I’m after, but 
success. I must show General Howe that I am a 
better man than Colonel Simcoe, of the Queen’s 
Rangers, and this is my chance.” 

He proceeded through the city, bending his head to 
the cold wind and drawing his cloak closely about his 
form. 

Presently he turned into Race Street, then not the 
busy affair it is now, and passed some lighted shops, 
where he heard soldiers making merry away from the 
cold. 

He passed on, looking for the number he sought, 
and at last reached the door. 

With his hand on one of the pistols the spy catcher 
of Philadelphia knocked and looked at the door. 


186 


Decoyed 


He had reached the right place. 

At last the portal opened and Joe slipped into the 
hall. 

Albert stood before him. 

Joe nodded to the boy, and looked down the long 
hall, which was full of shadows. 

‘‘Where are they?^’ he whispered. “Show me the 
young rebel captains, and ” 

Albert flitted through a door and Joe was alone. 

“This savors of treachery!’^ he cried, whipping out 
the weapon. “I have been decoyed here. I ’’ 

“You are right!” said a voice at this moment. 
“You have come here to die, Joe Galloway!” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


AS THE FOOL DIES 

Joe’s first impulse was to make a swift move to the 
door, but he remembered having heard a lock click 
after his entrance, and the next moment, with the 
pistol in his hand, he looked down the dimly lighted 
hall. 

That Albert had decoyed him to the house he now 
knew, and the stern voice which still rang in his 
ears told him he would soon behold his enemy. 

But where was that enemy and who was he? 

The voice did not sound familiar, and for half 
a second Joe strained his eyes as he leaned forward for 
the first shot in the encounter. 

He was not held in mystery long, for suddenly a 
door opened and he stood face to face with a tall man. 

The spy catcher fell back a step and threw up his 
pistol arm, but he was interrupted by the same voice. 

You heard me, Joe Galloway. I have you in the 
trap. The scheme worked admirably. You came as 
comes the bird to the snare. You have fallen into 
the pit of death!” 

187 


188 


As the Fool Dies 


^^Who are you?” demanded the Tory. 

‘‘I am Captain Nemesis. I am the avenger of the 
young and the innocent. There! Don’t throw up 
your weapon. It is high enough now. Let us go 
back.” 

Joe did not speak. 

‘‘Do you remember the boy who begged for his life 
at your merciless hand? But why should you remem- 
ber when your victims have been so numerous? I 
will not sharpen your recollection; but surely you have 
not forgotten the widow’s son — the boy Stark.” 

Joe started a little. 

“Then ” 

“I am Willis Stark, the elder brother. I am the 
avenger of the boy. I am the agent in the hands of 
the Great Avenger to call you to account. Stand up 
like a man. Look me fairly in the eye if you can, 
coward!” 

The spy catcher thought he heard a noise out in the 
street as if a regiment was filing past the building, and 
he turned his head slightly, for any sound that prom- 
ised relief was music to his ears. 

“It’s no use!” cried Willis Stark, noticing the turn 
of his victim’s head. “Help will never enter here. 
Your days are nxunbered, and the other victim in the 
little fuller’s shop will go free of you. Can’t you stand 
up like a man?” 


As the Fool Dies 


189 


No, he could not. The coward dreads always to 
die; he is never ready for the summons; he shrinks 
from the mention of death, and at sight of the monster 
trembles in his soul. 

As Captain Stark finished he stamped on the floor 
and the door behind him opened. 

Still covering the Tory with the pistol, he commanded 
him to advance, at the same time stepping back him- 
self, and Joe, hardly knowing what he had done, foimd 
himself in a small room. 

The doors of this chamber were closed. 

The ceiling was low and the walls quite bare. 

There was no carpet on the floor and but little fur- 
niture. 

Joe Galloway looked round, and noted everything, 
which did not take him long, for there was little to 
see. 

To him in his fright it looked like a grave, so sombre 
in color and so deathly still. 

Halfway across the room stood Captain Stark, 
the patriot and deserter, his face cold and white, 
and one hand murderously clutching the butt of the 
pistol. 

‘‘Head up!” he cried. ‘‘Look me fairly in the eye. 
Don’t be a coward, you who have condemned so many. 
I am here for a twofold purpose. I have accom- 
plished the one purpose and the other is almost ac- 


190 


As the Fool Dies 


complished. What sort of weapon have you in your 
hand, Joe?’’ 

The spy catcher did not hold his pistol up for in- 
spection. He knew that his enemy could see without 
that. 

“Ah! ’tis a good one. And you are used to it. I 
will give you a chance.” 

Joe’s heart fluttered with hope. 

“ Come 1 The distance is right,” continued Captain 
Stark. “The candle gives enough light. It sheds its 
rays on you as well as upon me. One of us will look 
upon light for the last time this night. I cannot kill 
as you have killed. I haven’t in me the heart of the 
beast as you have. I can be merciful, which you have 
never been. There is a person concealed behind the 
door.” 

“Albert?” 

“Never mind who. That person will count three. 
At sound of the last numeral we will fire. Are you 
satisfied, Joe?” 

“I must be, murderer!” 

“Ah! that is a good name coming from one of your 
ilk,” laughed the avenger. “Are you ready, Joseph?” 

There was no reply, and Captain Stark stamped on 
the floor again. 

From behind the closed door came in distinct tones 
the word: 


As the Fool Dies 


191 


^^One!” 

Joe looked down at the weapon in his hand and saw 
that it shook. 

^^Two!” 

The Tory did not lift his pistol. 

A moment’s silence followed. 

Captain Stark looked into the white face before 
him, and the shadow of a smile gathered at the cor- 
ners of his mouth. 

Three!” 

Joe the coward had not lifted the pistol. 

Captain Stark threw his weapon toward his feet, 
though he still retained his hold on it, and looked 
across the space that separated them. 

‘^You are a greater coward than I thought you 
were,” he said. “You have no courage whatever.” 

“This is downright murder,” stammered Joe. 

“ So it is in your eyes. It was not so when the poor 
boy was hurried to his death. What! are you not 
going to take the chance I have given you?” 

“I don’t care to be killed like a sheep.” 

“Then why don’t you die like a lion? What sort 
of blood have you anyhow, Joe Galloway?” 

The silence that followed these words was startling. 

“I make another offer: I give you another chance. 
We will blow out the light. We will hunt one another 
in the darkness.” 


192 


As the Fool Dies 


^‘In this pen?” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“That is inhuman.” 

“In your opinion, yes,” laughed Captain Stark. 
“But you must take the plan I offer. I blow out the 
light. There!” 

The candle was snuffed out by the patriot’s fingers 
and the room fell into Stygian gloom. 

“Now!” said a voice in the blackness, “We will 
find one another, and the one who finds his antagonist 
first, slays. Are you agreed, Joe?” 

“Yes!” 

The voice of the spy catcher was now full of bitter- 
ness and bravery. 

He had to accept the inevitable. There was no 
other way out of it. 

Joe for a moment remained where he was and tried 
to discover what had become of his enemy. 

He had trained ears, but he could not make out the 
slightest sound in the room. 

He felt that but a few feet intervened between them, 
but for the life of him he could not tell which way. 

Ah, if he could only catch a glimpse of that terrible 
foe. If he could determine by sound where Captain 
Stark was he would put an end to this strange duel in 
the dark. 

The silence, deep and spreading, continued. 


As the Fool Dies 


193 


Joe stood against the wall, but all at once he stooped 
and moved across the room. 

He thought he heard a sound straight ahead. 

He did not doubt that his enemy was but a few feet 
away, and, with all the courage he possessed cropping 
out, he crept across the bare floor, one hand on the 
trigger and the other feeling his way. 

He crossed a space without accident and paused. 

The enemy was still out of reach, and Joe wondered 
why he had not come in contact with him. 

It was very strange, he thought, for surely he had 
crossed space enough to bring them together; but 
Captain Stark was still out of his reach. 

Then there came over Joe the fear of the unknown 
and the unseen. 

Perhaps the enemy was behind him. 

He might find him upon his back at any time, this 
avenger of blood, and a knife instead of a pistol ball 
might find his vitals. 

This feeling grew upon him. He could not shake it 
off, and the more he tried to, the firmer it became a 
part of his coward being. 

must settle this once for all!” cried Joe. “The 
man seems right ahead of me now. I will spring upon 
him, for surely I heard him breathe just now.” 

He brought all his muscles into play and bounded 
forward like a tiger. 


194 


As the Fool Dies 


But he miscalculated the distance and landed 
against a wall, falling back with a cry. 

He was half-stunned, but he did not loosen his hold 
on the pistol. 

‘'At my mercy!” he heard his enemy say, in the 
darkness. 

Poor Joe could not answer. 

His tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his 
mouth and his nerves to let go. 

There he grovelled on the floor, the most abject 
coward in the king’s service. 

Moments seemed hours amid the blackness by which 
he was surrounded; he heard more than the beating of 
his heart; he heard the thumping of his seething 
brain. 

As for the other, he stood against the wall like a 
statue. 

If Joe could have seen him he would have noticed a 
grim smile at the corners of his mouth and a glare of 
triumph in his eyes. 

Captain Stark, of Wayne’s Legion, had his foe at 
his mercy and he knew it. 

He knew that the old Tory was half dead from fright, 
that he was not a fair foe, that he had but to strike and 
finish what fear had begun. 

Suddenly out in the street was heard the roll of 
drums. 


As the Fool Dies 


195 


The sounds cut the cold air of midwinter and 
rolled away. 

Perhaps new troops were entering the city from 
Germantown, or some reinforcements from farther 
away. 

^‘Halt!’^ 

The word rang out right in front of the house. 

Captain Stark inclined his body forward a little and 
listened. 

Joe raised his head and waited, but did not 
speak. 

Presently the command, “Forward, march!’’ fol- 
lowed the other order, and the drums took up their 
rataplan again. 

Succor was vanishing, and he was at the mercy of 
the foe in the dark. 

“Hang it all!” cried Joe, in the depths of his soul. 
“Why lie here and die? Why not get up and shoot 
where I think he is?” 

But he did not. Cowardice beat down the incep- 
tion of the resolve and he hugged the cold floor. 

“Joe Galloway?” 

It was Captain Stark’s voice, but Joe did not re- 
spond. 

“Joe?” 

Silence still. The man on the floor looked into the 
darkness and shuddered. 


196 


As the Fool Dies 


For ten minutes the man from Valley Forge waited 
amid the silence of that room and then moved along 
the wall. 

He found a door and for a moment hesitated as he 
kept his hand on the latch. 

Joe gave no sign of life. 

‘Hn one minute you will be dead, Joe. My pistol 
is at your head,” he said. “You will receive your 
eternal discharge from the service of the king.” 

He might as well have addressed a stone for all the 
answer he got. 

His words came back to him in echoes that sank into 
his very soul. 

Then he struck the door with his fist. 

“A light!” he called out. “A light, Albert!” 

Footsteps sounded beyond the portal and the latch 
clicked. The door opened and a lighted candle was 
thrust forward. 

Captain Stark seized it and turned toward the 
middle of the room. 

Holding it in front of him he went forward and 
scattered the darkness with its rays. 

“Ho!” he cried as he stooped over a figure on the 
floor. “Just as I thought. He died as the fool dies. 
Albert!” 

The door opened again and Albert, the handsome, 
came into the room. 


As the Fool Dies 


197 


“Your master/’ said Captain Stark, pointing at 
Joe. 

“You killed him?” said the boy, looking up. 

“No, fear did. He died as the fool dies, but, all 
the same, my brother is avenged. King George has 
lost forever the servant who did his bidding in North 
America.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


HOWE AND CLINTON HAVE WORDS 

At a certain hour the night after the death of Joe 
Galloway, the spy catcher of Philadelphia, the two 
generals, Howe and Clinton, sat alone in the sump- 
tuous headquarters of the former. 

They were dressed in their full regimentals and the 
table before them was littered with official papers. 

Suddenly Howe, sweeping his hand over the docu- 
ments, picked up one which he twirled before his com- 
panion for a moment. 

“General,” said he, “I hold in my hand a paper 
signed by four young damsels of this city. Here are 
the names of Mistresses King, Narcross, Johnson, and 
Summerbell. They are, as you know, the daughters 
of friends of ours, and they have to report that Mis- 
tress Beverley is at this time harboring the rebel cap- 
tains for whom I have issued a reward.” 

Clinton put out his hand and took the paper. 

“I see,” said he, as he ran his eye over the sheet. 
“I see that the fair ladies are interested in the recap- 
ture of the two rebel captains.” 


Howe and Clinton Have Words 199 


“That is but natural, since they are for the king. 
I understand that you have given Mistress Beverley 
a pass through our lines at any time she may elect to 
use it.’^ 

Clinton’s round face colored a little, and he seemed 
to collect himself. 

“I do not seek your authority for the statement. 
General Howe,” he said. “It is true. I did give 
Mistress Beverley such a passport at Master Blake’s 
party.” 

“Are you aware of the uses to which such a paper 
may be put?” 

“That lies with the young lady herself.” 

“And from what I have heard of her she may seek 
to use the pass to our detriment.” 

“Perhaps.” 

Clinton was a little irascible in his tones, and he 
looked across the table, upon which he presently threw 
the paper. 

“These young ladies, all of whom are prominent in 
society, are emphatic in their statements, and I think 
the matter should be looked into at once. The pass 
must not be used, and, if possible, should be returned 
at once.” 

Sir Henry did not like this. He had given his word 
— his written word — to Priscilla, and he did not want 
to rescind it. 


200 Howe and Clinton Have Words 


‘^What if Mistress Beverley should undertake to 
pass our lines with the rebel captains?” demanded 
Howe. 

^‘But the pass reads but for herself alone.” 

‘‘True, for I did not think for a moment that you 
would issue one that would permit the escape of the 
Continentals.” 

“I think I can rely upon Mistress Beverley.” 

“These rebels are fertile in deeds and tricks,” 
smiled General Howe. “And I cannot permit the 
young lady to hold the pass longer.” 

“Why haven’t you sent a file of soldiers to confirm 
the reports of your fair correspondents?” 

“I wished to consult you first.” 

“I am willing that you shall do so. But you must 
be aware. General Howe, that a good deal of rivalry 
exists between certain damsels of Philadelphia. They 
are really jealous of Mistress Beverley.” 

“Say you so? There is nothing in this report that 
indicates this.” 

“Which, of course, would be withheld from it,” 
laughed Clinton. “It seems to me that it is but a 
display of jealousy on the part of the four fair corre- 
spondents of your excellency.” 

“You defend Mistress Beverley, then?” 

“I do not, but as a lady she is entitled to be judged 
without prejudice.” 


Howe and Clinton Have Words 201 


‘‘We have judged too many such ‘without pre- 
judice, ^ as you say,’’ snapped Howe, getting very red 
in the face, for he knew that the moment he left the 
army Clinton would step into the place. “I cannot 
permit this. As your commander. Sir Henry, I order 
you to send a guard at once to Mistress Beverley’s 
house and bring its inmates into my presence.” 

“What if for once I should refuse to obey 
you?” 

Clinton’s blood was up, and he looked at his superior 
with almost flashing eyes. 

“ Mistress Beverley belongs to the secret rebel league 
known as the Liberty Tie,” continued Howe. “She 
is from Boston, and there is no telling what she may 
do. But, my dear Clinton, you surely will not refuse 
to obey the order?” 

“I cannot do otherwise under the circumstances and 
keep my word with Mistress Beverley.” 

“But it must be done!” cried Howe, striking the 
table with his fist. “I expected a report from Joe 
Galloway ere this, but some hours have elapsed since 
I heard of him. He has never been silent so long at 
one time before.” 

“I have never been able to see, general, why you 
keep a man of this ilk in your service. You would not 
be seen talking to him on the street, but here you have 
him in your pay, and ” 


202 Howe and Clinton Have Words 


“I have found him helpful many times,” inter- 
rupted Howe. We must use some pretty dirty tools 
at times.” 

“But this man makes war on women and children. 
He is merciless, and numerous cases have come to 
my notice of his despicable deeds. I wouldn’t have 
employed him.” 

“But I have seen fit to do so,” snarled Howe. “But 
the order, Sir Henry?” 

“You are determined that I shall carry it out?” 

“I am.” 

“If you insist, it shall be carried out.” 

“Order Colonel Simcoe, of the Queen’s Rangers, to 
make the search and the arrest.” 

General Clinton arose. 

“I wash my hands of the whole matter,” he said, 
looking down at Howe. “I shall promptly apologize 
to Mistress Beverley.” 

“If they find her, eh?” 

“You place her standard of morality on a very low 
plane, sir.” 

“All’s fair in love and war,” smiled Howe. “She 
knows this. I would not blame her if she takes ad- 
vantage of your kindness and flits from the city.” 

“Neither would I, for that matter.” 

Clinton strode across the room, when footfalls 
echoed in his ears and he stopped. 


Howe and Clinton Have Words 203 


The door opened and Colonel Simcoe, of the Rangers, 
saluted on the threshhold. 

There was excitement in the coloneFs eyes. 

‘‘Just the man we want!’’ cried General Howe. 

Colonel Simcoe, you will obey General Clinton here 
in a little matter that demands prompt attention. 
He will issue the commands.” 

General Clinton turned to Colonel Simcoe and said : 

“ Colonel, you will take twenty of your Rangers and 
bring to this place the tenants of the house occupied 
by Mistress Beverley. Do you know where to find 
it?” 

Simcoe bowed with a grin. 

“These are the orders of General Howe, and he 
expects you to do this at once.” 

“But gentlemen — ” began Simcoe, and stopped. 

“What is it?” asked Howe. 

“The mission is not necessary,” he said. 

“Not necessary?” cried the British commander. 

“The house is empty!” 

“Since when?” 

“Since perhaps an hour ago.” 

“Have you investigated?” 

“I have just come from there.” 

“Where are the rebels, then?” 

“I wish I knew.” 

“There it is. General Clinton,” cried Howe, turn- 


204 Howe and Clinton Have Words 


ing upon Sir Henry. ‘‘I more than intimated that 
you have favored this fair rebel too far.^^ 

Clinton’s face grew red and white by turns. 

‘‘Have you searched the premises?” he asked, look- 
ing at Colonel Simcoe. 

“Thoroughly, your excellency.” 

“And the birds have flown?” 

“They are gone. I found evidence in the house 
that up till a short time ago it sheltered four 
persons. Their exit seems to have been hasty — in 
fact, a flight.” 

“You’ve been duped. Sir Henry!” roared Howe. 
“You’ve been completely duped by a girl.” 

“I will not believe it.” 

“I don’t know what will happen when you have 
supreme command here. You may surrender to 
Washington.” 

At this Clinton raged inwardly like a lion. He 
turned away and paced the floor a moment with rapid 
strides. 

“That is a reflection upon my loyalty!” he cried, 
stopping suddenly and turning full upon General 
Howe. “I would resent it, but for the intimate rela- 
tions that exist between us. It is not comradeship. 
It is almost an insult.” 

“Just as you please. General Clinton. I shall re- 
tire from this army with the assurance of having done 


Howe and Clinton Have Words 205 


my full duty toward my king, though those who would 
undermine me have tried to belittle me to my sover- 
eign. But now you, sir — you hand a fair rebel a pass- 
port, and she takes the escaped prisoners through our 
lines.’’ 

‘‘I will not believe this. Colonel Simcoe, you will 
ferret out these people at once. Start immediately. 
As I have said. Mistress Beverley is entitled to all the 
trick she can get out of my pass, and as for your insinu- 
ations, General Howe, I take no note of them.” 

He passed the door and went out without another 
word. 

“Go at once!” cried Howe to Colonel Simcoe. 
“Find the rebels if you can, and if they resist in the 
least — in the least, you understand — ^you know what to 
do. I will endorse any measures you may take with 
them. And see that your men have loaded pistols and 
good swords.” 

“But general, I have another report to make. I 
had a mysterious note which invited me to visit No. 
243 Race Street.” 

“WeU?” 

“I complied with the note and went thither. A 
startling discovery awaited me.” 

“What was it?” 

“I found Joe Galloway in one of the rooms of that 
house. Upon his bosom was pinned a paper upon 


206 Howe and Clinton Have Words 


which was written the words: ‘He died as the fool 
dieth. Willis Stark.’ That was all.” 

“Killed, was he?” cried Howe. 

“There wasn’t a mark on his person.” 

“It is a strange thing. But who is this Willis 
Stark?” 

“A deserter from Valley Forge who joined the 
Rangers a short time ago.” 

“Ah! he had a motive. He must have come to the 
city for a purpose.” 

“He did. I am sure of that now,” said Simcoe. 
“He came to find Joe Galloway, and, in my opinion, 
he found him.” 


CHAPTER XX 


TO VALLEY FORGE 

“Sestce alPs fair in love and war,” said Mistress 
Beverley, shortly before the visit of Colonel Simcoe, as 
detailed by that officer to General Howe,” we may as 
well prepare for ffight. The time is propitious and 
everything is ready.” 

She addressed the three young patriots in the house 
where she had just had her exciting interview with the 
four young ladies of the Quaker City. 

You intend to make use of General Clinton’s pass, 
then?” 

“Yes. We must outwit these redcoats somehow, 
and the pass promises to help us.” 

“But it calls for the passage through the lines of 
yourself alone, Priscilla,” said Frank. 

The fair rebel smiled archly. 

“Just as if a little strategem cannot change all that. 
You are handy with the pen. Captain Pierce.” 

Benjamin sat down at the table and looked at the 
paper. 

“It can be changed with a little work, I think.” 

207 


208 


To Valley Forge 


‘‘Go to work, then,” said the girl. “You can erase 
some words and say “Mistress Beverley and party.” 

“What! are you going along?” 

“Why not? Do you think it would be pleasant 
for me to encounter General Clinton after this?” 

“I should think not. But where is the quill?” 

Quills and ink were forthcoming, and Captain 
Benjamin went to work. 

In a few minutes he had changed the pass after 
Priscilla’s suggestion and handed it back to her. 

“ Capital 1” cried that young lady with a laugh. “ It 
will deceive the most curious. Then, it will be in- 
spected after dark, and perhaps by the light of a 
lantern, and that will be in our favor.” 

“But the conveyance?” 

“I have arranged for that. Abby has promised 
to have the sleigh at the rear door, and it ought to be 
there by this time.” 

A little investigation found the vehicle where it 
was promised to be and the four took seats therein. 

“Let me do the driving,” said Priscilla. “I am 
the holder of the pass and you are my friends going to 
Bor den town.” 

The night was cold and the stars had a real wintry 
glitter. 

A long stretch of street lay before them and now and 
then a light was seen. 


To Valley Forge 


209 


Evidently the British lion slept in Philadelphia; 
but the little party knew that it would take but little 
to arouse him. 

There were bells on the good horses so as not to give 
out the impression of escape, and the party began the 
journey. 

‘T don’t like nmning away from the enemy,” 
said Tom Hapgood. ‘T never ran from a Britisher 
yet.” 

^^But this is policy, Tom,” said Benjamin. ‘^The 
prison if not the rope lies behind us.” 

^^Oh, that’s another matter. I don’t care to dance 
on air at the hands of the redcoats. I would like to 
know how my friend Sam Porter makes it with the big 
grenadier who tried to stop me in the eating house, but 
he is able to take care of himself even if he doesn’t 
fight much.” 

For some distance the little party lapsed into silence, 
and at last the sleigh reached the outskirts of the city. 

Behind them lay the lights of Philadelphia and the 
border country was before them. 

“Where is the picket?” asked Frank. 

“Almost straight ahead,” came the answer from 
Priscilla. 

“What if he objects to the pass?” 

“Then you know what do do.” 

“I really hope he will raise an objection,” said Tom. 


210 


To Valley Forge 


‘T would like to get my hand into a Britisher’s throat 
before we get back to Valley Forge.” 

The whitened trees rose between them and the stars 
and the ground gave out no sounds of the journey, for 
it was covered with soft snow, through which the 
vehicle glided swiftly. 

Suddenly Priscilla, who handled the lines like a man, 
leaned back and whispered: 

‘‘The picket!” 

Instantly the occupants of the sleigh were on the 
alert, and the boys uncovered their weapons. 

Priscilla drove on, and in a few seconds the challenge 
of the half-frozen picket was heard: 

“Halt! Who goes there?” 

The sleigh kept on, and stopped not until the horses’ 
heads were almost against the bayonet of the stalwart 
guard. 

“We are going outside,” said Priscilla. “We have 
the proper pass signed by General Clinton.” 

“By General Clinton, eh?” responded the fellow 
with the musket. “Hi! there, boys. Come up with 
the light.” 

The following moment the glimmer of a lantern 
caught the eyes of the fugitives, and the figures of two 
more men whom they had not seen before rose in their 
path. 

“Why couldn’t you take another time for quitting 


To Valley Forge 


211 


the city?” growled one of the trio. ‘‘ It's a pretty time 
to pass, and here you waken a fellow out of a sound 
snooze. Who are you, anyhow?” 

Sh ! It's a lady, by my soul !” cried the first picket. 
‘^You mustn't be rude. Jack.” 

'‘I beg pardon, lady, but Jack Monroe was just 
dreaming of his sweetheart in old England, and — 
Where's the pass, lady?” 

With the utmost sangfroid Priscilla extended the 
pass with her gloved hand and the soldier took it. 

‘‘Read it out, Jack.” 

“Wait till I get my eyes fairly open,” was the reply. 
“They seem to be full of this blarsted frost and — 
Here we are. It's signed by Sir Henry sure enough.” 

“ And calls for how many?” inquired the other picket. 
“You have some friends in the sleigh, eh, fair one?” 

“Three cousins, and we're going to Bordentown.” 

“ It's all right,” said Jack Monroe. “The pass reads 
for the lady and her party.” 

The man with the lowered bayonet drew aside, but 
the next moment he straightened in the snow. 

“You will pardon us, lady, if we take a look at 
your friends. The pass may be all right, but just now 
we have to be very careful whom we pass through the 
lines. Stand up there, sirs — ^you in the sleigh.” 

Priscilla's hand gripped the lines with energy and 
called all her coolness into play. 


212 


To Valley Forge 


The critical moment had come. 

the way, they’re looking for two young rebels 
in the city,” said Jack. They’ve issued a proclama- 
tion of reward, and if some one catches them he will 
have money for his sweetheart across the sea. That’s 
right. Make the persons in the sleigh show them- 
selves.” 

The three pickets now gathered about the vehicle 
and their eyes looked searchingly at its occupants. 

^‘You don’t question the pass?” asked Priscilla. 

‘‘Not that, but we must know a little more. You 
must get out, all of you, and show yourselves.” 

Frank looked at his companions. 

Priscilla made a little room by moving to one side, 
and the next moment, with a cry of anger, Tom Hap- 
good thrust his pistol into the face of the nearest sentry. 

“Throw down your guns!” he cried. “Down or 
die!” 

Frank and Benjamin were now standing up in the 
sleigh among the robes, and their weapons were leveled 
at the startled guards. 

Priscilla struck the horses with the stinging lash, 
and at the same time one of the British leaped at the 
nearest animal. 

His hand touched the bit as the weapon of the young 
Long Islander flashed in his face, and he tumbled back 
with a cry. 


To Valley Forge 


213 


It was Frank’s voice. 

The other guards threw their muskets to their 
shoulders as the sleigh bounded away, and Priscilla 
struck the horses again and again with all her might. 

Two muskets rang out behind them and Tom rose 
in his seat and threw up his hands. 

‘Taster! faster!” he cried. ‘T am hit, but stop 
not for me. On! on! We shall have the whole 
British camp at our heels in a moment.” 

The horses, goaded by the sharp lash, sprang away 
with all their speed. 

The sleigh glided forward as if over glass, and the 
sharp hoofs of the steeds now and then threw out 
sparks as they struck stones beneath them. 

“What is the matter?” cried Frank, as he saw the 
lines suddenly drop from Priscilla’s hand. “Merciful 
heavens! she is hit, too!” 

Priscilla fell back in the arms of the young Conti- 
nental, and Tom seized the lines as he shouted to the 
horses. 

“She is dead!” said the voices of Lowry and Ben- 
jamin, uttering an exclamation of horror as they 
leaned forward. 

“ No, the blood is from the wound, and she breathes. 
On! on! Tom. Don’t let the enemy overtake us.” 

“Never while I drive,” was the answer, and the 


214 


To Valley Forge 


figure of the young Long Islander, standing erect in 
front, rose between them and the stars. 

A mile was covered and then another, with Priscilla 
somewhat recovered, lying back in the sleigh. 

Where is Tom hit?’^ she asked, seeing the boy 
plying the whip so savagely. 

‘‘Somewhere where it won’t kill, I reckon,” came 
back from in front. “We will beat them to Valley 
Forge or know why.” 

There were no sounds of pursuit behind them, for 
Colonel Simcoe was just mustering his Rangers for 
their apprehension, and it would be some time before 
he could know the truth. 

“A little slower,” cried Frank, at last. “Rest the 
horses for the final plunge.” 

The lights of a farmhouse now rose before them, and 
as they reached the porch they saw the door open and 
a man came out. 

“Madam,” they heard him say, “the war doesn’t 
stop till we’ve gained our independence. Don’t fear 
for the boys at Valley Forge. They will come forth 
in the spring in fighting trim and then you will see the 
backs of the British once more.” 

“I pray you may be right. Captain Stark,” was the 
reply, at which both Frank and Benjamin uttered a 
cry. 

“Ho!” they shouted as the sleigh came to a halt. 


To Valley Forge 215 


‘‘Here we are, Captain Stark. And on the road to 
Valley Forge.’^ 

Priscilla was taken into the house for a little while 
as the horses rested. Her wound was examined and 
found not to be very serious. It was dressed, and she 
came back to the sleigh with renewed spirit. 

“On again!’’ she said. “We must make Valley 
Forge by daylight if possible.” 

Captain Stark, who had effected his escape through 
the lines, and who was also on his way back to the 
camp among the hills of the Schuykill, proved a 
gratifying reinforcement, and the journey was renewed. 

Behind them Colonel Simcoe and some mounted 
men were in hot pursuit. 

The doughty officer of the Queen’s Rangers was 
bent on carrying out his orders, and when they came 
to the farmhouse they drew rein and entered. 

They were met at the door by the patriot wife and 
faced with determination on her part. 

It was precious little satisfaction Simcoe got from 
her. 

He stormed, raved, and threatened, but all to no 
purpose. 

The woman would not tell him about the flight of 
the fugitives, but he guessed it all. 

We’ll have you in Philadelphia for this!” cried the 
exasperated Briton. 


216 


To Valley Forge 


you please, sir. And when you see your Gen- 
eral Howe tell him that Polly Morgan is patriot from 
the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Good 
night, Colonel Simcoe, of his majesty’s marauders.” 

And the door was slammed in the colonel’s face and 
he was obliged to leave the woman mistress of the 
situation. 


CHAPTER XXI 


CONCLUSION 

General Sir Henry Clinton sat alone in his quar- 
ters in the heart of the Quaker City looking at a note 
that lay on his table. 

“It was pretty well done,” he said aloud, as he 
smiled. “I must give her credit for being a shrewd 
little rebel. She knew what she was doing when she 
asked for the pass and — she sends the pass back to 
show me how she managed it!” 

Sir Henry picked up a bit of paper which had ac- 
companied the note and twirled it in his fingers. 

Then he tore it in two and flung the pieces into a 
wicker basket at his side. 

As he did this the door opened and Colonel Simcoe 
came in. 

“IVe heard all,” said Sir Henry. “They got clear 
away, eh?” 

“Yes, sir. They had too much the start of us. We 
did the best we could, and ” 

“What does General Howe say?” 

“ I have just come from General Howe, and he sends 
this by me.” 


218 


Conclusion 


The commander of the Rangers threw a folded note 
upon the table and Chnton raked it toward him. 

He opened it slowly and finally uncreased it. 

“The general is still in a tiff over the matter, I see,'’ 
he observed, with a glance at Simcoe. 

“He isn't in the best of humor." 

“He must get over his spell," smiled Clinton. “I 
did not command at Germantown. You may tell 
him this for me. Colonel Simcoe." 

The colonel bowed. 

“ General Howe, to tell the truth, is a little jealous. 
He never liked the attentions I paid to Mistress 
Beverley. But that is just like the general. Well, 
we shall soon see the last of him. He will soon go 
back to England and rest on his brilliant laurels," 
and Clinton laughed sarcastically. “Over there he 
won't be bothered offering rewards for young rebels 
who give him the slip when he has them fairly in his 
clutches. But what about your new recruit. Captain 
Stark?" 

“Oh, he joined the others and got away with them." 

“It was quite an episode, wasn't it?" 

“And a lucky one for the rebel captain's life. He 
compassed the death of Joe Galloway " 

“For which I for one am really thankful," broke 
in Clinton. “A more despicable wretch never served 
the king. By George! Colonel Simcoe, if Captain 


Conclusion 


219 


Stark ever falls into your hands while I command the 
army, don’t execute him without my consent.” 

“But he played spy while here.” 

“That matters little. He rid the service of 
Master Galloway, and for that I think he ought to be 
promoted.” 

“General Howe threatens to give Mistress Abby 
Lane trouble because the fugitives took her horses, of 
course, with her consent.” 

“Does he?” cried Clinton. “He is very much 
worked up over the matter. I think I have some au- 
thority in this city. You will secretly see that the 
young lady is not molested. I don’t make war on 
women, no matter what General Howe does. I war 
only with armed rebels.” 

Clinton rose and paced the floor. 

“I wonder,” he suddenly said, as he stopped, “if 
General Howe expects a reply to his note?” 

“He did not say. I should think the tenor of it 
would indicate your course.” 

“Well, he shall have it,” and the British general 
seated himself at the table. 

Simcoe saw his hand move rapidly over a sheet of 
paper for a few moments and then he sanded the 
writing. 

“Read it,” said Clinton, as he pushed the note over 
to the colonel. “It’s not private.” 


220 


Conclusion 


Colonel Simcoe picked up the note and read at a 
glance as follows: 


General Sir Henry Clinton sends his compliments 
to General Lord Howe, and reminds him that on the 
4th of October last a battle was fought at Germantown 
between the forces of General Howe and General 
Washington. It was no victory for the British arms, 
for the rebels escaped, and their praises are now being 
simg in the courts of our enemies in Europe. General 
Howe evidently remembers this. 

Signed: Sir Henry Clinton, Major-general.” 


Colonel Simcoe folded the note, with a smile, and 
put it away in his bosom. 

Ten minutes later when he entered Howe^s head- 
quarters that officer looked up inquiringly. 

Simcoe threw the note upon the table. 

‘‘Did he really send this?” roared Howe, as he 
colored deeply. “The scoundrel.” 

“He sent nothing else.” 

General Howe tore the note into half a dozen frag- 
ments and threw the whole upon the floor. 

His rage was ungovernable. He paced the floor for 
a moment and suddenly came back to the table, 
across which he looked into the calm face of Simcoe. 

“I will not do him the honor to send a challenge,” 
he said at last. “He evidently expects that.” 


Conclusion 


221 


cannot say. General Clinton was very calm.” 

That was the end of it. 

For some days the two generals hardly spoke as 
they passed, but their relations to the king brought 
them together, though thereafter the best of feelings 
did not exist between them. 

Mistress Abby Lane was not molested by General 
Howe, who evidently feared the wrath of Clinton, and 
the matter was dropped. 

Up at Valley Forge there was great rejoicing over 
the return of the young captains of the Legion, and 
Washington was the first to visit them and offer his 
congratulations. 

Out of the jaws of the British lion they had 
emerged with safety, barring the slight wounds 
received by Mistress Priscilla and Tom in the en- 
counter with the pickets, and they resolved to 
remain in the camp and share the fortimes of its 
brave men. 

Obed Poole breathed free when he heard of the death 
of Joe Galloway, the famous spy catcher of Phila- 
delphia, for he knew that little Mary was safe at last, 
and that the hand of the wretch would never take her 
away. 

The Liberty Tie did not cease to exist, although it 
was closely watched by the redcoats. It was fed 


222 


Conclusion 


with the fuel of freedom and, presided over by 
such spirits as Abby Lane, it prospered, until at 
last the British moved out of the Quaker City and 
showed their backs to the patriotic inhabitants 
thereof. 

The time was soon to come when the tables would 
turn for the men of ’76, for forth from the cold canton- 
ments of Valley Forge Washington would move and 
throw himself upon the king’s legions. 

And there were none in the camps along the Schuyl- 
kill more eager to march upon the foe than Captains 
Lowry and Pierce. They had tried the prisons of the 
king, had been hunted in the Quaker City, and were 
ready to lead the Boys of Liberty upon another battle- 
field. 

Yes, the spring of hope was near at hand — the 
clouds would soon sweep over the sky, leaving it 
bright and clear again, and the great heart of Washing- 
ton would rejoice once more. 

After Valley Forge was to come a brighter era, and, 
in the light of the glorious sun of freedom, hearts 
bowed down were to be filled with joy, for after Mon- 
mouth, where we may again meet some of our friends, 
was to come that splendid achievement at Yorktown, 
and from its ramparts was to float the fair flag of the 
new Republic, with a future brighter than all the com- 
mingled stars of the sky. 


Conclusion 


223 


Priscilla rejoiced with the army. She had done her 
part for liberty, and while she dwelt at Valley Forge 
she wondered if ever again she would be compelled 
to deceive General Clinton, whom she learned had 
forgiven her little trick, and who, in a pretty note one 
day, sent her his compliments. 


THE END 


* 


\ 




y 


j < 








* 


1 


t 


r) 


1 « 


1 





I 


I 


4 




* 


1 


k 

( 

k 

• 4 

« ’ 

I < 


»'l 


I 

1 



» 


t 


V 


( 

> 


A 


I 


t 


i 


s 


t 





* 


« 


• ^ 





^ I' *u 

/ 


r ‘ 

i 1 « 


* ' 


* •! 


f i . .', 




Caj4 




)T 

Ji 


, >^v 





J 


4 


, f 


I 


t 


I l' 


t 



k 


t 




1 

I 


L 



* • 




TT 


















1} 


■V 


’» •> 











> 4 




% ®'^J 


- J. 










lV. 


ft; 


• ;■ - 


i < 


K^w V-' 

Prt f * '^ll ' ► ^ I 






n. 




4 *- 




-•*. . na 






.D 


# 1 ' 




^ (•^ 




V » 


- ^ n 




n 


,a 








>b 










I 4 






LA:-^’ -ilK' 




- 5ft 


* =» - ■< 




f>‘. ^'- 


S * 


^1 


^ . 




_r 

■?f 


:<» 






itf 


9.m: 

.. i'&'fci*; '4 








fi !>, 






rt J ' ' S^ *- 




.\. 5 / 


V *•-» •. 




/ 


♦ *'l 




>«»', 




'«■ j 


V 


> »T 






/( 


> 


C: 


r> 


A 




> * ‘ • I 




^ 7 :' 


•i* 




^ 4 , 


up™" 


“ vl 

-^-M 




B.v#^ 

b-. •;«&"■ 


f*f » 






« 






“fc f 


L»i *‘1W< 






> > kll 


-•/ 


J ..>1 






;t-APR 17 "1913 








L ■ 







•'. • ‘ .*■ 






f _ 


*v»» 


«• • 


' ». 


itk' 





^ W9.5L^ m *v: „■ - • ^ J^ ’ 

•j. y •‘. • ’ 'x;,^ 

• . -■■*' * .-'■' .■' , ' ^ • V' ' 




* '-?•'? "'A. 


\ . - ^ 


r 

I ■»■ 


. V 


• *• 



I 4e 


\ 


t ' 






• • 


* 1 ’. :'t** 




n-,‘ 


> 


I 


.* V' 

>> /* •• 


* I 




t T - '. _/ 



» • 



